of that, and no one ever shall know. In fact, so happy am I and
Hubert--"

"Happy?" said Lambert wincing.

"Yes," she declared firmly. "He thinks so, and whatever unhappiness I
may feel, I conceal from him. But you must come to The Manor, and meet
me here, there, and everywhere, so that people shall not say, as they
are doing, that you are dying of love, and that, because I am a greedy
fortune-hunter, I ruined your life."

"They do not dare. I have not heard any--"

"What can you hear in this jungle?" interrupted Lady Agnes with scorn.
"You stop your ears with cotton wool, but I am in the world, hearing
everything. And the more unpleasant the thing is, the more readily do
I hear it. You can end this trouble by coming out of your lovesick
retirement, and by showing that you no longer care for me."

"That would be acting a lie."

"And do I not act a lie?" she cried fiercely. "Is not my whole marriage
a lie? I despise myself for my weakness in yielding, and yet, God help
me, what else could I do when Garvington's fair fame was in question?
Think of the disgrace, had he been prosecuted by Hubert. And Hubert
knows that you and I loved; that I could not give him the love he
desired. He was content to accept me on those terms. I don't say he was
right; but am I right, are you right, is Garvington right? Is any one of
us right? Not one, not one. The whole thing is horrible, but I make the
best of it, since I did what I did do, openly and for a serious purpose