that I am trying not to _think_, that I am putting the thing from me as
far as I can, even for a few minutes. Immediately you go, I shall have
to face it all again, and--alone. You have been very good to me; you
don't think I am ungrateful, because I--I play the fool?"

"Don't play it any longer, then," said Celia, earnestly. "Make up your
mind to do the right thing. Why should you ruin yourself? But I have
said that before. You know I am right; you say you are grateful because
I have stopped you from----" She shuddered, and her hand closed still
more tightly on the revolver. "Promise me----"

He looked at her wistfully; but he shook his head.

"I can't do that," he said, in a low voice. "Here, I see I shall have to
put the case to you." He sank into the chair and leant his head on his
hand, and, still with his eyes covered, he continued, in little more
than a whisper: "Supposing there was someone you cared for more than
anything else in the world, more than life, more than honour. Is there
someone?"

Celia did not blush, and without a sign of embarrassment, shook her
head.

"I beg your pardon for asking. I am sorry there is not; because, you
see, you would understand more readily. Well, there is someone I care
for like that, and I am doing this to save her--I mean him," he
corrected quickly, "from all that I should suffer if I stood up and
faced the music, as you want me to do."

"Whoever she is, she is not worth it," said Celia, her voice thrilling
with indignation and scorn.

"I said 'him,'" he corrected, almost inaudibly.

"You said 'her,' first," retorted Celia. "Of course, it's a woman--and a
wicked, a selfish one. No woman who had a spark of goodness in her would
accept such a sacrifice."

"You wrong her," he said. "There are always exceptions, circumstances,
to govern every case. In this case, she does not know. I tell you that,
if I take your advice, I should blast the life of the woman I--I love."

"Then you are screening a man for her sake?" said Celia.

"That's it," he admitted; "and you would do the same, if you stood in my
place. Oh, you would say you would not; perhaps you think at this moment
you would not; but you would. You're just the sort of girl to do it." He
laughed again, bitterly. "Why, one has only to look at you----"

For the first time, Celia coloured, and her eyes dropped. As if ashamed
of having caused her embarrassment, he bit his lip, and muttered, "I
have been offensive, I a