"I never thought much of Onslow," said Jacynth slowly. "A weak character at all times, I suppose nobody would dispute the fact of his having been unfaithful to his wife?"
"With Mme. de Vigny? Pouf! There were faults on both sides."
"On Mme. de Vigny's and his? Certainly."
"Not at all. On his and Lady Francis'. She certainly led him a life."
"A life he deserved! He— married to her." He looked suddenly at his companion, and the touch of passion in his eyes revealed all things. "To that poor, sweet, pretty girl. He to play fast and loose with her, a child just out of her schoolroom. It"—he paused and commanded himself—"In my opinion it was contemptible."
"You give yourself away a good deal," said Castleton, who looked amused—who looked, indeed, as if he would like to laugh. He had a great affection for Jacynth, who was rather a special sort of man, and in spite of his mirth felt sorry for him. "You are, I presume, on the side of Lady Francis."
"That would be an impertinence from any man but you," said Jacynth moodily. "There is no need to go into it, however. Whether I love her or not is no matter. It"—miserably—"can never matter now. What I do is—to pity her with all my soul."
"Because of her marriage?"
