"You can do," he answered, looking at her steadily, "what I ask you to do, and leave the future of the children more safely in my hands than in their father's. His example can be no possible guide for them. His influence in the home will tend neither towards their happiness nor their good. At most, you can give them his name--they have a right to that, as it is. Think, Pamela... Isn't your idea of what is right for them merely a morbid fancy? Let the man go. You've lost your hold on him. Leave him to finish the muddle he has made of his life in his own way. He has proved himself incapable of faithfulness. It isn't decent that you should continue to live with him. I show you a way out,--take it. Put yourself unreservedly in my hands." "That's shirking," she said. "I've always shirked." "What else is there for you to do?" he asked. "You can't straighten a muddle which is none of your making. There's a duty you owe to yourself,--you're overlooking that Shake yourself free of this life which is hurtful to you in every sense, and give me the right to protect you, to act and think for you. I can't countenance what you think of doing. I'm going to use my utmost effort to dissuade you. See here," he said. He took a note-book from his pocket, and wrote the address of the Pretoria Home upon a page which he tore out and handed to her. "Write to the doctor there, and ask him to give you all particulars of Arnott's case. He will possibly tell you more than he told me." "His condition makes no difference," she answered, reading the address he handed to her before putting the paper away. "Ill or well, it doesn't affect the main point." "I know," he said. "But you ought to ascertain what you can before taking any decisive step. Then, if you wish to see him, I will take you there." At this suggestion, which she had not before considered, she glanced at him in quick dismay. "I don't think--I could go to him," she said, hesitating nervously. "I... He must come home." "That, of course," Dare answered, infinitely relieved, "is as you wish." The possibility of Arnott consenting to return occurred to him as very unlikely. "You've got to face the chance of his refusal," he added abruptly. He leaned towards her. "If he refuses, Pamela?--He may, you know." She turned to him and laid a hand impulsively upon his arm. "Don't tempt me to hope he will do that," she said. "Be strong for both of us... I want you to be strong." He took her face in his hands and held it for a moment looking deeply into her eyes. "Aren't you demanding rather much of me," he asked, "to insist that I should aid you in my own defeat? I'm only human, Pamela."