But I _hadn't_ promised! At least, I ransacked my memory for any word or incident that might have given her such an impression, and I couldn't find any.... Even when I sat down at Severn's table the next night, I was by no means certain what I would do. There was nobody there but the four of us. Helen was very quiet and June rather nervously subdued; only Severn, in his febrile way, possessed any degree of vivacity. There was something slightly horrible in the contrast between the intense activity of his mind and the dead incapacity of his body. During dinner he talked principally politics, but afterwards, when the servants had disappeared, he announced his newest Karelsky discovery. It was pretty shady--some business about a student whom Karelsky had tricked and who, in despair, had drowned himself. The affair had been partially hushed up at the time, but under Severn's skilled manipulation it could doubtless be made to live again. "It's just the very thing we wanted," he exclaimed rapturously. "Nothing could have been better--except a scandal about a woman.... It's just possible we might even get a verdict--you never know. Anyhow, we shall certainly achieve our object, which is, I take it, to give our hero a good boost at the expense of our villain." "No," said June quietly, and looked at me. He smiled. "June," he went on, quite good-humouredly, "has some rather peculiar ideas on the subject. May I assume that she has hammered them into you as well as into me?" She said (and I could feel before she said it, that it was what she was going to say): "Yes, I've told Hilton what I think. And he agrees with me, too. Absolutely." "_What_?" And Severn laughed. "What's that? _Do_ you agree with her? Do you agree that we should all do nothing and say nothing and let Karelsky go on his way rejoicing?" And the extraordinary thing is that I heard myself answering: "Well, you know, there is something in what she says." It astonished me; it was as if something sudden and impulsive jerked me into position--into position by her side. I even began to argue the matter--at first as an impromptu defender of something I wasn't very certain about, but later on with conviction and even enthusiasm. I think I made an impression on Severn, for he heard me very attentively. I assured him that, from my own knowledge, Terry was quite ignorant of the fact that he had been duped. "Not only that, but he's actually delighted--because he sees that the work he did is really of value. Probably the idea that he has any proprietary right to the results of his own work has never occurred to him." "And you don't want it to occur to him?" "Well, as things are, I feel that I don't. The thought that's he's scored such a success has worked a miracle with him, and one's always rather afraid of a relapse after a miracle." "Do you think he can possibly go on without knowing?" "There's an odd chance that he might."