Slowly the brown
right hand stole up to his forehead.

"I never ought to have been," he said dully. "I ought to have had more
sense. It was always--out of the question ... utterly. I think
perhaps if I'd had a job to put my back into, I'd 've----"

He hesitated, at a loss for an expression which would not be ungallant.

Instantly Valerie lunged.

"You'd 've what?"

"Behaved better," he said desperately, turning back the way they had
come.

Head back, eyes closed, lips parted, Valerie stood like a statue.

"Behaved ... better?" she whispered. "Behaved ... better?" She
shivered, and, when the blue eyes opened, there was the flash of tears
springing. "When you talk like that," she said quietly, "you make me
feel like death. I deserve it, I know. I deserve anything. But, if
you knew how it hurt, I think you'd spare me." Staring into the
distance, Anthony dug his nails into his palms. "I came here to-day to
pray your forgiveness. Since I--found I was wrong, I've been more
utterly wretched than I thought a woman could be. I didn't know there
was such agony in this world. Aunt Harriet'll bear me out, and so will
the Alisons. I told them the truth. And when, after all these weeks,
I found where you were, I just thanked God.... You and I know what we
were to each other. Try and put yourself in my place. Supposing you'd
turned me down--because you were rotten...." Anthony winced. "Yes,
rotten. There's no other word. And then you'd found out your mistake.
How would you feel?"

"I'm sure you had cause," blurted Lyveden. "It was a mistake, of
course. But you couldn't know that. And I--I've nothing to forgive,
dear. I've never thought ill of you--never once. I can't pretend I
wasn't shaken, but I always knew there was some mix-up."

"You were--shaken?" said Valerie.

Anthony nodded.

"You see," he explained, "I was terribly----"

"Have you got over it?" said Valerie.

With the point at his throat, Anthony did the only possible thing, and
threw down his arms.

"No," he said steadily, "I haven't, and I don't think I ever shall."

There was a long, long silence, which the suck and gurgle of water
fretting a crazy sluice-gate had to themselves. Then--

"What d'you mean?" breathed Valerie.

"I think," said Lyveden, "that I shall love you as long as I live."

Valerie just sighed very happily.

"I think," she said, standing a-tiptoe, "I'm the luckiest woman of all
the ages."

Then she