"One more thing. You are not to tell Valentia anything about this. She's not to know I overheard. I won't have her distressed. Remember that." "I give you my word of honour," said Harry. "Very well. And when I've posted the letter we'll wipe out the whole thing. Don't even say you saw me in town." "Of course I won't." As Harry bent his head low over the writing-table, Romer, who was sitting motionless, looked at a curious dagger that was hanging on the wall, with a horrible sudden longing to plunge it in Harry's neck.... Horrified at his own fancy, he looked away from it and thought of Valentia. Valentia would smile and be happy now, and everything would go smoothly again. He would not have to say anything painful to her; she would never be uncomfortable in his presence. In time she would probably grow tired of Harry and could turn to him, Romer, again, with more affection than if anything painful had passed between them.... His attitude had been extraordinarily unselfish, and yet it had its root in the deep scheming selfishness and subtle calculation of the passion of love. To get Valentia back, as he vaguely hoped, some time, however distant, he had acted most wisely, and he knew it. For he cared for her far too much ever to have conventional thoughts on the subject. It never even occurred to him to try to act as the husband ought to act, or as by the incessant insidious influence of plays and novels most of us have been brought up to think he ought to act. Most people are far more guided than they know in their views of life by the artificial conventions of the theatre and of literature, or by tradition. In fact, most people are other people. Romer was himself. He thought simply for himself, like a child. And so it happened that he acted in a crisis terrible to him, more wisely for his own interest than the most sophisticated of men.... * * * * * "Here is the letter. Will you read it?" Romer read it and put it back in the envelope. Then he said-- "All right. You're going back to the Green Gate this afternoon?" "If I may." "I shall be back to-morrow," said Romer, in his ordinary voice. Harry accompanied him to the door and held out his hand. Romer hesitated a moment. Then he said-- "Good-bye," with a nod, and went away, taking no notice of it. * * * * * "By Jove!" said Harry, to himself. CHAPTER XXXV THE LIMIT