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Rh hesitated. It was all quite harmless: the most severe moralist could not convict him of even the most shadowy infidelity towards his fiancée, if he chose to go back and follow up a purely retrospective episode like this—an episode which interested and fascinated him so strongly—only, what would Sophia say to it? Instinctively, he felt that the situation, innocent as it was, would fail to commend itself to her. He had no intention of informing her, it was true; but he knew that he was a poor dissembler—he might easily betray himself in some unguarded moment, and then— No! it was vexing, no doubt; but, upon the whole, it was wiser and better to renounce those additional hours on board the Boomerang altogether—to allow this past, that never had, but only might have been, to remain unsummoned and unknown for ever. Otherwise, who could tell that, by gradual assaults, even such an affection as he had for Sophia might not be eventually undermined?

But this fear, as he saw the next moment, was almost too extravagant to be seriously taken into account. He felt nothing, and never could feel anything, but warm and sin-