With us there need be no cant nor pretence nor false modesty,
because there is not the slightest possibility of misunderstanding."
"And yet, Madeline, we may not defy the right and permit you to
sacrifice yourself," he opposed. "There is a standard which neither cant
nor pretence nor false modesty can affect--the standard of honour."
"Honour!" she inflected. "What is honour, such honour, when a woman
loves."
"Nothing--and therefore must the love abide; honour can't abide once it
is lost."
She shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid it's not so much my honour as your
love," she said. "A week ago, and I would have had a different
answer--in fact, I would have been the one to answer and _you_ the one
to ask. You know it quite as well as I; for when you left me that
afternoon in Paris, expecting to return in the evening, you were ready
to speak and I was ready with the answer. Then fate, in the person of an
unsympathetic Foreign Office intervened, and sent you on the instant to
St. Petersburg. We never met again until in this hotel. I have not
changed, but you have. I fear your answer does not ring quite true; it
isn't like you. Why is it, Guy?"
Never a reference to Mrs. Clephane; never an intimation--and yet Mrs.
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