All
but at the last moment, on a caprice, an impulse you do not pretend
to justify to one's intelligence, you declare it is all at an end.
Pray, how do you propose to satisfy natural curiosity about such a
strange event?"
"I take all the blame. I make it known that I have behaved--
unreasonably; if you will disgracefully."
"That word," replied Jacks, faintly smiling, "has a meaning in this
connection which you would hardly care to reflect upon. Take it that
you have said this to your friends: what do _I_ say to _mine_?"
Irene could not answer.
"I have a pleasant choice," he pursued. "I can keep silence--which
would mean scandal, affecting both of us, according to people's
disposition. Or I can say with simple pathos, 'Miss Derwent begged
me to release her.' Neither alternative is agreeable to me. It may
be unchivalrous. Possibly another man would beg to be allowed to
sacrifice his reputation, to ensure your quiet release. To be frank
with you, I value my reputation, I value my chances in life. I have
no mind to make myself appear worse than I am."
Irene had sunk into her chair again. As he talked, Jacks moved to a
sofa near her, and dropped on to the end of it.
"Surely there is a way," began the girl's voice, profoundly
troubled. "We could let it be known, first of all, that the marriage
was postponed. Then--there would be less talk afterwards."
He leaned towards her, upon his elbow.
Pages:
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359