“Then you don’t know what I know, dear. You’ve taught me to depend upon you—always, altogether, all day long. While I was waiting for you just now, I was mad because the thought entered my head that perhaps you did not really love me very much, after all.” “What a silly thought! But I’m glad it hurt you; isn’t that horrid of me?” He leaned down and kissed her upturned face. “Well,” he said, “what about Rottingdean?” “George—before I tell you what I think—tell me right out, what put the notion into your head? You think we should be safer there than here?” “Why, of course——” “I don’t agree with you. Your being there is sure to get into the papers one way or another. He will see it there, or some dear, kind friend will tell him, and he’d come down.” “It’s funny we didn’t think of that!” “We?” she asked quickly. “Who’s we?” “Why, I—er—met Mortimer. He’s often done my thinking for me, so I chatted my difficulty over with him.” “Two great, clever men of the world, and one, wee, little foolish idea! Why didn’t you come and talk it over with me?” “Somehow—I didn’t like to.” “Well, let’s forget clever Mr. Fred. Don’t you agree with me, it wouldn’t do?” “Ye-es, I do. We could go abroad?” “That would only make his journey after us longer. He’s a saint, which means one part of lunacy to nine parts of obstinacy. It’s this pig-headedness that makes them martyrs. Who was it said that a ‘martyr is a persecutor who has got the worst of it?’ Edward will persecute me until I give in, or he dies.” “He shan’t!” Maddison interjected angrily. “Oh, no, he _shan’t_ indeed,” she continued, laughing, “because—I won’t let him. Now, while you two wise men of the West End have been talking, I’ve been thinking. Part of your plan fits in with mine. You must go away——” “Not without you!” “If not without me, you may as well stay here. Don’t you want me to be happy?” “Of course I do. That’s the only want I have.” “Then you must make me unhappy for a little while, so that I may be quite happy by and by. If you go down to Rottingdean alone, I’ll manage that Edward shall hear of it. He’ll watch you, find out that I’m not with you, and leave you alone. I’ll stay here; I shan’t bother to hide away; I don’t mind if he does find me out, and come to see me. I don’t think he’ll do it twice. Besides, obstinate as he is, he must have some pride somewhere, and some other woman may catch hold of him: I never believed the story St. Anthony told. And there’s this hope too: he may begin to think he’s neglecting his real work in hunting after me.” “That’s what Mortimer thought.” “Did he? Now—don’t you see that my way is the better?” “It doesn’t make any difference. I won’t leave you.”