"Yes--yes. You're always right, old man," he said, eyes and voice superbly under control. "I'm a selfish brute to monopolise you and--er--stand in your light. A sight of you will do them all good; and _you'll_ be glad to see--Honor again. I used to wonder--long ago--what hindered you from fixing things up--you two." It was Paul's turn now to start and change colour. "You wondered?" he echoed blankly; then his voice dropped a tone. "Well, Theo, since you've touched on the subject, I'd as soon you knew the truth. I--spoke to Honor last March, while you were away; and--she refused." "Refused--_you?_" In that flash of amazement and sympathy with his friend's pain, Desmond escaped, if only for a moment, from the tyranny of his own tormented soul. His gaze travelled back to the hills. "I'd have given her credit for more perception," he said quietly; and Paul, regarding him with a whimsical tenderness: "Has love anything to do with that sort of thing?" "No--no. I'm a blatant fool. But still--a man like you----!" He broke off short, and there was a moment of strained silence. But the real Desmond was awake at last, and he forced himself to add: "Women change sometimes--once they know. Have you never been tempted to try again?" "No; and never shall be, for a very good reason. There's some one in the way--some other man----" Desmond drew in his breath sharply. "Good Lord!" he muttered in a low dazed voice, as if thinking aloud. "But where the deuce _is_ he? Why hasn't he come forward? He must be a rotten sort of chap----" Paul caressed his moustache to hide a smile. "Not necessarily Theo. I gather, from what she said that--there were difficulties----" "Difficulties--?" Again he broke off, stunned by the coincidence, yet incapable of suspecting the truth. Then, pulling himself together, his spoke in his natural voice: "Well, anyway, Paul, _you'd_ better accept Sir John's invitation, since you can still manage to be friends with her in spite of that infernal chap in the background." This time Paul smiled outright; but Desmond saw nothing. His chin sunk in his hand, he sat still as a rock, raging inwardly--as he had not raged for a full year--at thought of that same "infernal chap" whose difficulties might not be permanent; who might even now---- Suddenly he became aware that Paul was answering his last remark. "Yes, Theo, I can just manage it," he was saying in a voice of grave tenderness. "It has not been easy; but the truth is that--when it came to the wrench--I hadn't the courage to let her go quite out of my life."