above the sun was the sole tenant of the sky, and east and west the down
was empty of passengers. He, like his soul, was alone, and alone he had
to think these things out.

Yes, this liar and slanderer, whoever he was, had tried to kill him. The
attempt had been well-planned too, for the chances had been a thousand to
one in favour of the murderer. But the one chance had turned up, Madge
had loved him, and she had been brave, setting at defiance the order of
her father, and had seen him secretly, and told him all the circumstances
of this attack on him. But supposing she had been just a shade less
brave, supposing her filial obedience had weighed an ounce heavier? Then
he would never have known anything about it. The result would simply have
been, as it was meant to be, that the Templetons were out when he called.
There would have been a change of subject in their rooms when his name
was mentioned, other people would have vaguely gathered that Mr. Morris
Assheton's name was not productive of animated conversation; their
gatherings would have spread further, while he himself, ignorant of all
cause, would have encountered cold shoulders.

Morris's hands clutched at the short down grass, tearing it up and
scattering it. He was helpless, too, unless he took the law into his own
hands. It would do no good, young as he was, he knew that, to bring any
action for defamation of character, since the world only says, if a man
justifies himself by the only legal means in his power, "There must have
been something in it, since it was said!" No legal remedy, no fines or
even imprisonment, far less apology and retraction satisfied justice.
There were only two courses open: one to regard the slander as a splash
of mud thrown by some vile thing that sat in the gutter, and simply
ignore it; the other to do something himself, to strike, to hit, with his
bodily hands, whatever the result of his violence was.