"I understand that you love him in one of two ways. If it's a great love it's capable of sacrifice to prove its greatness. Show that it is so by giving him up. If it's any other sort of love it will not stand the strain to which you propose to subject it, and within six months after your marriage you'll realise that you've ruined two lives, and are yourself the chief sufferer. Come, prove that what you say is true, and save him from himself." "But if I do, I do it at a fearful price. It means social ostracism." "Not at all. Who will know of this charge against you? Four people at the most, and not one of them will ever speak of it. Darcy, who originated the lie, will, for obvious reasons, keep silent. Stanley's the soul of honour; he'd rather tear his tongue out than speak a word of it. I've proved my discretion through several generations, and Kingsland must be held in check by you." "Why do you include Lieutenant Kingsland?" "Because, I believe, he holds the only piece of evidence which could appear to substantiate Darcy's trumped-up lie." "And that is?" "The receipt for the forty thousand pounds _in your name_." "And you wish me to ask Kingsland to proclaim my own shame!" "I wish you to ask him to give that receipt to the Secretary." "Now I see why you come to me, why you did not ruthlessly throw me over; your little plot had a weak point, and you needed my co-operation to complete my own degradation!" "Miss Fitzgerald is fast becoming a diplomatist!" "I'm a fool!" "Pardon me, you are nearer wisdom than you've ever been in your life." "If--I--do--this," she said very slowly, "you must help me to reinstate myself in the eyes of the world." "I've told you it'll not be necessary." "Bah! I know the world better than you do, with all your cleverness. Mine is a practical, not a theoretical, knowledge." Kent-Lauriston bowed. "They'll talk, no matter if it be truth or not. It will be believed. I must have a few questions answered in any event." "Ask them." "Who is Mr. Stanley to marry?" "Madame Darcy." "But----" "Her husband has consented to the divorce." "On what grounds?" "Incompatibility of temper, I believe." "So you think the Secretary will marry her?" "I'll take charge of that matter." "I know they love each other!" she exclaimed, passionately. "It was love at first sight. Then there was a misunderstanding. Now, one more question. This sum of forty thousand pounds?" "Yes, what of it?" "Who's to have it?" "Darcy." "What!" "The Secretary told him he might draw it from the bank to-morrow, as, well--as compensation for turning State's evidence." She laughed a harsh, unmusical laugh. "You've won," she said. "I will do what you wish--for his sake." "I believed that you would," he replied gravely, but one eyelid raised just a trifle. She saw it, and turned on him like a flash.