“If it were only your intelligence!” broke in Mayne in a tone low still, but vibrating with passion scarcely controlled, “that wouldn’t matter.” Suddenly he went towards him, standing close, and speaking in a rapid tone, almost in his ear. “Listen!” he said. “This once, at least, you shall see yourself as I see you--as any fairly decent man sees you. You knew all about me. You knew how for years--ever since I was a boy at Oxford--I loved her and hoped to make her love me--till _you_ came on the scene. Then I saw it was all up. Well, I took it pretty decently, didn’t I? I went away. I stayed away. I didn’t come home till I felt myself cured of all but affection for your wife. Then I met you, and you pressed me--_begged_ me to come to your house. And I came to you--in all good faith, God knows--as your friend, as well as your wife’s. Before I’d been in the house an hour I saw you were neglecting her. Then you brought that woman down, and I wondered. It was only by degrees that I saw what you wanted, you----” He checked himself before the word was out. “How does it strike you?” he went on, falling back a step. “Tell me! You knew I _had_ loved her. In the old days you were jealous enough of our friendship. What do you think of a husband who neglects his wife, insults her by bringing his mistress to her house, and then calls an old lover upon the scene? That I cared for her too much to insult her--that she is the woman you know her to be, is no thanks to you. If----” Robert’s face was white, but he broke in upon the other man’s torrent of words with a voice of ice. “And you really expect me to believe this--this eloquent--what shall I call it? It is certainly no explanation.” Cecily, who had been standing motionless at the head of the sofa, now came swiftly to her husband. “Please listen to me,” she said, breathlessly. “You have lived seven years with me. You know whether I speak the truth. Do you or do you not believe me when I tell you that Dick has never kissed me before? He is going away at once--to-morrow, and----” She hesitated a moment. Before she could recover, Robert spoke. “Very ingenious,” he said. “Do I believe you? With my experience of your sex, my dear Cecily--certainly not.” There was a silence. Then, as though coming to a decision, Mayne turned deliberately towards Cecily. “I shall not go to-morrow,” he said. “You know you can rely upon me.” “Yes,” returned Cecily, slowly, “I will remember it.” He took her hand a moment, then released it, and went to the door. When it closed after him, Cecily found herself wondering whether she had or had not heard the hall door-bell a few moments before. She glanced at Robert, who was moving with slow, blind steps towards the window.