"You put the case very harshly, Mr. Thresk," said Hazlewood. "But you have not considered my position," and he went indignantly back to the library.
Thresk shrugged his shoulders. After all if Dick Hazlewood turned his back upon Stella she would not hear the abuse or suffer the shame. That she would take the dark journey as she declared he could not doubt. And no one could prevent her—not even he himself, though his heart might break at her taking it. All depended upon Dick.
He appeared a few minutes afterwards fresh from his ride, glowing with good-humour and contentment. But the sight of Thresk surprised him.
"Hulloa," he cried. "Good-morning. I thought you were going to catch the eight forty-five."
"I felt lazy," answered Thresk. "I sent off some telegrams to put off my engagements."
"Good," said Dick, and he sat down at the breakfast-table. As he poured out a cup of tea, Thresk said:
"I think I heard you were over thirty."
"Yes."
"Thirty's a good age," said Thresk.
"It looks back on youth," answered Dick.