“He will have pro rata with his success. Yes—the greater his success here, the more his enemies will dig into his past, and make capital out of the old scandal. And, sooner or later, he is bound to visit England. Chiefly if he marries you. You don't want to stay in Tamerlanistan all the rest of your natural life!”
And then he reminded her of her old promise not to marry Hector Wade until the latter had completely cleared his name.
Hector, when appealed to by Jane, agreed with Mr. Warburton.
He did not know what it was: either the subtle influence of the fatalistic Orient, or a deep conviction in his own heart; but, somehow, he felt absolutely sure that, sooner or later, the stigma and taint that marred his name would be removed.
“Why are you so sure?” asked Jane. “Have you heard from home? Has your brother confessed perhaps?” For, by this time, though Hector, faithful to the promise he had given his father, had not given her any explanation of the affair, she, putting two and two together, had made to herself a pretty clear picture of what had happened. “Or has your father …?”
“No, dear. It's something different. You see, I'm not a religious man—what goes under the name of religion, what? But I have a certain belief in the everlasting squareness and decency of—oh, you know—things!”
“Things!” mimicked Jane. “You are an inarticulate old dear, and I'm afraid you'll be a most unsatisfactory lover!”
