I laughed and quoted the Latin tag about the ingenuous boy of the
ingenuous visage and ingenuous modesty.

"Because I don't feverishly search the postbag for a letter from Miss
Faversham you conclude I'm a bloodless automaton?"

"Please don't say any more about it, Simon," he pleaded in deep
distress.

A sudden idea struck me. I reflected, walked to the window, and, having
made up my mind, sat down again. I had a weapon to hand which I had
overlooked, and with the discovery came a weak craving for the boy's
sympathy. I believe I care more for him than for any living creature. I
decided to give him some notion of my position.

Sooner or later he would have to learn it.

"I would rather like to tell you something," said I, "about my
engagement--in confidence, of course. When Eleanor Faversham comes back
I propose to ask her to release me from it."

He drew a long breath. "I'm glad. She's an awfully nice girl, but
she's no more in love with you than my mother is. But it'll be rather
difficult, won't it?"

"I don't think so," I replied, shaking my head. "It's a question of
health. My doctors absolutely forbid it."

A look of affectionate alarm sprang into his eyes. He broke into