Larpent waited a few moments; then: "It's no matter for my interference," he said. "But it seems to me you've made a mistake in one particular. You don't realize why he married you." Toby made a small passionate movement of protest. "He ought not to have done it," she said, in a low voice. "I ought not to have let him. I thought I could play the part. I know now I can't. And--he knows it too." "I think you'll have to play the part," Larpent said. "No!" She spoke with vehemence. "It's quite impossible. He has been far too good--far too generous. But it shan't go on. He's got to set me free. If he doesn't--" she stopped abruptly. "Well? If he doesn't?" Larpent's voice was unwontedly gentle, and there was compassion in his look. Toby's eyes avoided his. "I'll find--a way for myself," she said almost inarticulately. Larpent's fingers tightened again upon the thin young arm. "It's no good fighting Fate," he said. "Why has it become impossible? Just because he knows all about you? Do you suppose that--or anything else--is going to make any difference at this stage? Do you imagine he would let you go--for that?" Toby's arm strained against him. "He'll have to," she declared stubbornly. "He doesn't know all about me either---any more than you do. And--and--and--he's never going to know." Her voice shook stormily. She glanced about her desperately as if in search of refuge. The child in her arms stirred and woke. Larpent got up as if the conversation were ended. He stood for a moment irresolute, then walked across to the two little girls digging busily a few yards away. Eileen greeted him with her usual shy courtesy. "Won't you wait a little longer?" she said. "We've very nearly finished." "Nearly finished," echoed Molly. "Isn't it a booful big hole?" "What's it for?" asked Larpent. Toby's voice answered him. She had risen and followed him. It had an odd break in it--the sound of laughter that is mingled with tears. "They're digging a hole to bury me in. Isn't it a great idea?" He wheeled and looked at her. There was no sign of tears in the wide blue eyes that met his own. Yet he put his hand on her shoulder with the gesture of one who comforts a child. "Before I go," he said, "I want to tell you something--something no one has told me, but that I've found out for myself. There is only one thing on this earth worth having--only one thing that counts. It isn't rank or wealth or even happiness. It swamps the lot, just because it's the only thing in God's creation that lasts. And you've got it. In heaven's name, don't throw it away!" He spoke with the simplicity and strength of a man who never wastes his words, and having spoken, he released her without farewell and turned away. Toby stood quite motionless for several seconds, watching him; then, as he did not look round, hurriedly she addressed the eldest child.