"There must," Frances said wildly, "be some terrible mistake." But Nicky cut the ground from under the theory of the terrible mistake by continuing in his refusal to deny it. "What sort of woman," said Anthony, "is the Professor's wife?" "Oh, awfully decent," said Nicky. "You had no encouragement, then, no provocation?" "She's awfully fascinating," said Nicky. Then Frances had another thought. It seemed to her that Nicky was evading. "Are you sure you're not screening somebody else?" "Screening somebody else? Do you mean some other fellow?" "Yes. I'm not asking you to give the name, Nicky." "I swear I'm not. Why should I be? I can't think why you're all making such a fuss about it. I don't mean poor old 'Booster.' He's got some cause, if you like." "But what was it you did--really did, Nicky?" "You've read the letters, Mother." Nicky's adolescence seemed to die and pass from him there and then; and she saw a stubborn, hard virility that frightened and repelled her, forcing her to believe that it might have really happened. To Frances the awfulness of it was beyond belief. And the pathos of her belief in Nicky was unbearable to Anthony. There were the letters. "I think, dear," Anthony said, "you'd better leave us." "Mayn't I stay?" It was as if she thought that by staying she could bring Nicky's youth back to life again. "No," said Anthony. She went, and Nicky opened the door for her. His hard, tight man's face looked at her as if it had been she who had sinned and he who suffered, intolerably, for her sin. The click of the door as he shut it stabbed her. "It's a damnable business, father. We'd better not talk about it." But Anthony would talk about it. And when he had done talking all that Nicky had to say was: "You know as well as I do that these things happen." * * * * * For Nicky had thought it out very carefully beforehand in the train. What else could he say? He couldn't tell them that "Booster's" poor little wife had lost her head and made hysterical love to him, and had been so frightened at what she had done that she had made him promise on his word of honour that, whatever happened, he wouldn't give her away to anybody, not even to his own people. He supposed that either Peggy had given herself away, or that poor old "Booster" had found her out. He supposed that, having found her out, there was no other line that "Booster" could have taken. Anyhow, there was no other line that _he_ could take; because, in the world where these things happened, being found out would be fifty times worse for Peggy than it would be for him.