assertions seem quite normal.

"I am wondering, Mrs. Holbury," Conscience spoke now without any hint of
hostility--disarmed by her visitor's candor, "why you are telling me
this."

"When one has valued a friend and has had reports of him which are both
deleterious and unfair it is quite conceivable, don't you think, that
that person would wish to know the truth and to see the friend
vindicated?"

Mrs. Eben Tollman met the direct eyes with a level glance almost of
challenge.

"What reports do you mean?"

"Mrs. Tollman," said Marian earnestly, "you have agreed to listen.
Please don't let us fence evasively. You had the same reports of Stuart
that the rest of the world had; reports for which I feel largely
responsible because many things which seemed most damaging, he might
have explained to his own full credit. He refrained on my account." She
paused a moment, then continued resolutely, "Incidentally he knows
nothing of this effort I am making to have you understand the truth. Do
you want to hear the unfalsified story of how I was discovered by my
husband in his cottage and in his arms?"

Conscience nodded gravely and when, ten minutes later, her visitor had
finished a narrative in which she had not spared herself, the hostess
had an unpleasant feeling that her own attitude had been priggish while
the other woman's had been astonishingly generous.

That conviction gave a softness to her voice as she put her next
question softly. "Why should it mean anything to Mr. Farquaharson
now--my opinion?"

"In the Philippines," said Marian Holbury, "the army officers have a
name for a dishonorable discharge from the service. They call it the
'yellow furlough.' Do you imagine that Stuart Farquaharson could
willingly retire in that fashion? Don't you see how greatly he would
covet an honorable discharge?"

Conscience felt suddenly glad that Eben would not return to the house
before evening. She had another thing yet to learn and she asked
faintly, "But it must have been hard for you to come and tell this to a
stranger. Why did you do it?"

"Hard!" For the first time the even control of Marian's voice broke into
vehemence. "It was more than hard. It was all but impossible. But he
couldn't tell you himself, without discrediting me and there was no one
else to do it."

"Even so I don't quite see--"

But Mrs. Holbury cut her short with an imperious gesture and her voice
held a vibrant thrill of feeling.

"You say that S