"Oh, no, she wouldn't; you don't know April as well as I do. She hates scenes; she could discuss it impersonally with you. With me—can't you see how it would hurt her; she wouldn't know how to take it, whether to plead, or just accept it—can't you see?"
He had won, and he knew it, through the appeal to April's feelings. Ralph would do what he wanted, because he would think that he was performing a service for April.
"I expect you're right," he said; "you know her better than I do, but I'm doing it for her, not for you, mind."
"Yes, yes, I understand."
"If it wasn't for her I wouldn't do it. A man should do his own dirty work. And you know what I think of it."
"Oh, yes, I know." He would make no defence. Ralph might be allowed in payment the poor privilege of revenge.
"And you'll tell me what she says?"
"You shall have a full account of the execution."
They walked a little farther in silence. They had nothing more to say to each other, and at the corner of a road they parted. It was finished.