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Rh deﬁnitely announcing his resolve not to remain at Westmore. A year earlier Amherst, deeply moved by the letter, would have given it to his wife in the hope of its producing the same effect on her. He knew better now—he had learned her instinct for detecting “business” under every serious call on her attention. His only hope, as always, was to reach her through the personal appeal; and he put before her the fact of Duplain’s Withdrawal as the open victory of his antagonists. But he saw at once that even this could not infuse new life into the question.

“If I go back he’ll stay—I can hold him, can gain time till things take a turn,” he urged.

“Another? I thought they were deﬁnitely settled,” she objected languidly.

“No—they’re not; they can’t be, on such a basis,” Amherst broke out with sudden emphasis. He walked across the room, and came back to her side with a determined face. “It’s a delusion, a deception,” he exclaimed, “to think I can stand by any longer and see things going to ruin at Westmore! If I’ve made you think so, I’ve unconsciously deceived us both. As long as you’re my wife we’ve only one honour between us, and that honour is mine to take care of.”

“Honour? that an odd expression!” she said with a forced laugh, and a little tinge of pink in her cheek. “You speak as if I had—had made myself talked about [ 322 ]