Mr. Vanborough rose to his feet without replying, and took a turn in
the room impatiently. Scoundrel as he was--in intention, if not yet in
act--the loss of the oldest friend he had in the world staggered him for
the moment.

"This is an awkward business, Delamayn," he said. "What would you advise
me to do?"

Mr. Delamayn shook his head, and sipped his claret.

"I decline to advise you," he answered. "I take no responsibility,
beyond the responsibility of stating the law as it stands, in your
case."

Mr. Vanborough sat down again at the table, to consider the alternative
of asserting or not asserting his freedom from the marriage tie. He had
not had much time thus far for turning the matter over in his mind.
But for his residence on the Continent the question of the flaw in his
marriage might no doubt have been raised long since. As things were,
the question had only taken its rise in a chance conversation with Mr.
Delamayn in the summer of that year.

For some minutes the lawyer sat silent, sipping his wine, and the
husband sat silent, thinking his own thoughts. The first change that
came over the scene was produced by the appearance of a servant in the
dining-room.

Mr. Vanborough looked up at the man with a sudden outbreak of anger.