led to Allan's eyes!

Falsely revealed, or truly revealed? Had she stolen her way back to
decent society and a reputable employment by means of a false character?
She had. Did her position impose on her the dreadful necessity of
perpetual secrecy and perpetual deceit in relation to her past life? It
did. Was she some such pitiable victim to the treachery of a man unknown
as Allan had supposed? _She was no such pitiable victim_. The conclusion
which Allan had drawn--the conclusion literally forced into his mind by
the facts before him--was, nevertheless, the conclusion of all others
that was furthest even from touching on the truth. The true story of
Miss Gwilt's connection with the house in Pimlico and the people who
inhabited it--a house rightly described as filled with wicked secrets,
and people rightly represented as perpetually in danger of feeling the
grasp of the law--was a story which coming events were yet to disclose:
a story infinitely less revolting, and yet infinitely more terrible,
than Allan or Allan's companion had either of them supposed.

"I tried to spare you, Mr. Armadale," repeated Pedgift. "I was anxious,
if I could possibly avoid it, not to distress you."

Allan looked up, and made an effort to control himself. "You have
distressed me dreadfully," he said. "You have quite crushed me down. But
it is not your fault. I ought to feel you have done me a service; and
what I ought to do I will do, when I am my own man again. There is one
thing," Allan added, after a moment's painful consideration, "which
ought to be understood between us at once. The advice you offered me
just now was very kindly meant, and it was the best advice that could be
given. I will take it gratefully. We will never talk of this again, if
you please; and I beg and entreat you will never speak about it to any
other person. Will you promise me that?"

Pedgift gave the promise with very evident sincerity, but without his
professional confidence of manner. The distress in Allan's face seemed
to daunt him. After a moment of very uncharacteristic hesitation, he
considerately quitted the room.

Left by himself, Allan rang for writing materials, and took out of his
pocket-book the fatal letter of introduction to "Mrs. Mandeville" which
he had received from the major's wife.

A man accustomed to consider consequences and to prepare himself for
action by previous thought would, in Allan's present circumstances,
have felt some difficul