"Oh yes! You so far injured the fame of the woman for whom you hadn't afterwards the pluck to fight, that it's not necessary for me to tell Selford that you were in love with her a few months before you made love to his daughter, nor that you tried to run away with her, but that in the end you funked the job. I needn't tell him, because he knows--and his wife knows. You took care of that." Young Blake said nothing, though he opened his lips as if to speak. "And I needn't tell Anna either. That's unnecessary, for the same reason. She knows just as well as her father and mother know." "She knows nothing, I tell you. She hasn't an idea----" "Did you see her face when she saw that I wasn't Richards?" "I tell you---- She was embarrassed, of course---- But----" "She knows quite well, Blake. Oh, not the details, but the main thing. She knows that quite well. And she will have made her decision. There's no duty incumbent on me." "You'll say nothing then?" "I shall say nothing at all." Grantley relapsed into silence--a most easy self-possessed silence. His eyes were on young Blake no more, but rested placidly on one of Selford's best pictures on the opposite wall. Blake cleared his throat, and shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. "Why do you stay?" asked Grantley mildly. "Wouldn't it be better to continue your interview with Anna elsewhere? Mrs. Selford's coming in here, you see." Blake broke out: "God knows, Imason, it's difficult for me to say a word to you, but----" Grantley raised his hand a little. "It's impossible," he said. "There can be no words between you and me about that. And what does it matter to you what I think? I shall hold my tongue. And you'll feel sure I've no real cause of complaint--quite sure if only I hold my tongue. And I think Anna will hold her tongue. Then you'll forget she knows, and go on posturing before her with entire satisfaction to yourself." He turned his eyes on him and laughed a little. "As long as you can humbug yourself or anybody else, or even get other people to let you think you're humbugging them, you're quite happy, you know." Blake looked at him once and twice, but his tongue found no words. He turned and walked towards the door. "Wait in the dining-room," said Grantley. Blake went out without turning or seeming to hear. After a moment or two Anna's step came down the stairs. "Mamma'll be down directly, Mr. Imason," she called as she reached the door. Then her eyes took in the room. "Mr.--Mr. Blake?" she asked, with a sudden quick rush of colour in her cheeks. "I think you'll find him in the dining-room," said Grantley gravely. She understood--and she did not lack courage. She had enough for two--for herself and for Blake. She met Grantley's look fair and square, drawing up her trim stylish figure to a stiff rigidity, and setting her lips in a resolute line. Grantley admired her attitude and her open defiance of him. He smiled at her in a confidential mockery.