Leaning a little over he could see Valentia on a bamboo chair. To his horror he saw that she was crying. Harry, speaking in a suppressed but rather angry voice, appeared to be trying to comfort her. Without a second's hesitation or a moment's scruple, Romer intently listened. He did not hide or draw behind the curtain. He remained in full view, in the window, so that they could see him easily if they happened to look up. But they did not; they were far too much preoccupied.... He heard Harry speaking volubly, saying, in a tone of irritated apology and explanation-- "My dear girl, I do wish to heaven you wouldn't take it like that. I haven't changed--I never shall. I don't care two straws about Miss Walmer. But really, it is such a splendid chance for me! You ought no more to expect me to give it up than any other good business opportunity that might crop up." "I should never see you again," she answered, her voice broken by sobs. "Yes, you would. We should be the same as ever. You know we can't do without each other. You're part of my life." He spoke casually, but with irritation, as if mentioning a self-evident fact. "Oh yes, you say that," she answered sadly. "But nothing could alter the fact that you wish to be treacherous, and throw me over--and just for money! It's simply degrading. It's all nonsense to say it will be just the same!" "Well, of course--for a time--immediately after the marriage--it couldn't be; but it would gradually drift into very much the same." "It wouldn't, even if it could, because I should never see you again," she repeated. Harry stood up with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders raised. Romer could see his face quite plainly, and wondered at its hard, selfish, almost cruel expression. "Well, if you won't you won't," he said. "How can I waste all my life dangling after a woman who is married to somebody else? I should be only too delighted--if I could afford it. But I can't, and that's the brutal truth. And then, you know, there has been a little talk. That mother-in-law of yours has been gossiping about us. Some day, Romer's bound to get hold of it, and then where shall we be? Don't you see, dear," he went on more gently, "this will stop all that? Wouldn't it be better for me to be married--just in this official sort of way--to remain in England, and be able to see you just the same as ever--very soon--than to go out to the colonies or somewhere, and never see you again at all? There's no doubt I've got to do something. I'm in a frightful hole. Seven thousand a year--a place in the country--and a decent sort of girl, dropped down on me, as it were, from heaven! I hadn't the slightest idea of such luck--and hadn't any pretensions to it. But the girl has taken a liking to me, and her mother wants to get her married. It's ugly--unromantic--but there are the facts. If you cared for me really, I shouldn't think you would want to stand in my way."