The justice of the remark made Roland wince. He had seen hardly anything of Ralph during the last three years.
“But, Ralph,” he pleaded, “how can I go and tell her myself?”
“If one’s done a rotten thing one owns up to it. It’s the least one can do.”
“But, it isn’t——”
“What isn’t it? Not a rotten thing to make a girl believe for four years that you’re going to marry her and then chuck her! If that isn’t a rotten thing I don’t know what is!”
Roland was wise enough not to attempt to justify himself. He would only enrage Ralph still further and that was not his game.
“All right,” he said. “Granted all that, granted I’ve done a rotten thing, it’s happened; it can’t be altered now; something’s got to be done. Put yourself in my place. What would you do if you were me?”
“I shouldn’t have got myself in such a place”; his voice was stern and official and condemnatory. In spite of the stress of the situation Roland was hard put to it not to kick him for a prig.
“But I have, you see, and——”
“Even so,” Ralph interrupted, “I can’t see why you shouldn’t go and tell April yourself.”