myself clear to you. I would suffer anything sooner than leave
you under any misapprehension of the grounds upon which I should
have preferred to face a firing party rather than have been rescued
at the sacrifice of your good name."

"I hope," she said, with faint but cutting irony, "you do not intend
to offer me the reparation of marriage."

It took his breath away for a moment. It was a solution that in
his confused and irate state of mind he had never even paused to
consider. Yet now that it was put to him in this scornfully
reproachful manner he perceived not only that it was the only
possible course, but also that on that very account it might be
considered by her impossible.

Her testiness was suddenly plain to him. She feared that he was
come to her with an offer of marriage out of a sense of duty, as an
amende, to correct the false position into which, for his sake, she
had placed herself. And he himself by his blundering phrase had
given colour to that hideous fear of hers.

He considered a moment whilst he stood there meeting her defiant
glance. Never had she been more desirable in his eyes; and
hopeless as his love for her had always seemed, never had it been
in such danger of hopelessness as at this present moment, unless he
proceeded here with the utmost care. And so Ned Tremayne became
subtle for the first time in his honest, straightforward, soldierly
life. "No," he answered boldly, "I do not intend it."

"I am glad that you spare me that," she answered him, yet her pallor