“I have done so.”
“And what said he?”
“It is not a money question. Virtually he has given up all claim to his wife, and he is willing to resign her legally, but he will not receive one shilling for so doing. There is a great deal of chivalrous spirit about him, which, I must tell you frankly, I greatly admire; but chivalry is one thing, and the law of England is another. You, as a magistrate, must be perfectly aware of this.”
“I have no belief in the chivalry of a person of his class; but we are not here to discuss fanciful and fabulous forms of chivalry. You must obtain a divorce at any cost—mind you that.”
Mr. Chicknell laughed.
“You are very positive, my lord,” he observed. “I suppose you would not like me to manufacture evidence, as it is termed.”
“Certainly not. The end can be obtained by some other means; only I tell you again, Aveline must be released from the tie which is, to say the truth, the very bane of her existence.”
“I will consult my partner, and determine how to take action in the suit. I will then communicate with your lordship.”
“Enough. So let the matter rest for the present. But pray hurry on the matter at as early a day as possible.”
“And now, Chicknell, having arranged this business thus far, let us return to the prisoner Chudley. The assizes will soon be on, and the case will be taken as early as possible. You know, I suppose, that Miss Jamblin has been staying with us—the reason for this being change of scene. Aveline is very partial to her, and I think it best that they should be out of the way when the Larchgrove-lane murder case comes before the court; and I have arranged that they should both go to my house in the metropolis, and stay there till this painful business is over. Chudley will of course be convicted.”