25. I heard him again, at last; he was talking to my back, his tone a trifle less aloof. “Mrs. Abbott, do you realize that I know nothing whatever about you--your character, your purpose, the nature of your hold upon my wife? So what means have I of judging? You threaten me with something that seems to me entirely insane--and what can I make of it? If you wish me to understand you, tell me in plain words what you want.” I reflected that I was in the world, and must take it as I found it. “I have told you what I want,” I said; “but I will tell you again, if it is necessary. I hoped to persuade you that it was your duty to go to your wife and tell her the truth.” He took a few moments to make sure of his self-possession. “And would you explain what good you imagine that could do?” “Your wife,” I said, “must be put in position to protect herself in future. There is no means of making sure in such a matter, except to tell her the truth. You love her--and you are a man who has never been accustomed to do without what he wants.” “Great God, woman!” he cried. “Don’t you suppose one blind child is enough?” It was the first human word that he had spoken, and I was grateful for it. “I have already covered that point,” I said, in a low voice. “The medical books are full of painful evidence that several blind children are often not enough. There can be no escaping the necessity--Sylvia must _know._ The only question is, who shall tell her? You must realize that in urging you to be the person, I am thinking of your good as well as hers. I will, of course, not mention that I have had anything to do with persuading you, and so it will seem to her that you have some realization of the wrong you have done her, some desire to atone for it, and to be honourable and fair in your future dealings with her. When she has once been made to realize that you are no more guilty than other men of your class--hat you have done no worse than all of them---- “You imagine she could be made to believe that?” he broke in, impatiently. “I will undertake to see that she believes it,” I replied. “You seem to have great confidence in your ability to manage my wife!” “If you continue to resent my existence,” I answered, gravely, “you will make it impossible for me to help you.” “Pardon me,” he said--but he did not say it cordially.