“By the things you’ve said from time to time. You see, it’s this way. Until I met Miss Favart I was quite unashamed of myself. Her purity and goodness made me view myself in a new light. Since then I’ve tried to retrieve my past to some extent. Of course, I can never be worthy of her, but——”
“Worthy of her! I don’t understand.” I leant forward in my chair, frowning.
“You do understand,” he said quietly. “You must have guessed it from the first. I’m in love with her and intend to make her my wife.”
“Intend!” I repeated.
He rose to his feet, as though willing to show me his fine body, and began to pace the room with the stealthy tread of a panther. He kept his eyes on mine. When he spoke there was a purring determination in his voice.
“Yes, intend. I’ve always had my way with women. You’ll see; I shan’t fail this time. I may have to wait, perhaps.”
“Halloway,” I said, “I don’t suppose you’re capable of realizing how decent people feel about you. Of course there are many men who disguise their feelings when they see you trying to do better. But very few of those same men would introduce you to their sisters, or daughters, or wives. To put it plainly, they’d feel they were insulting them. So now you know how I feel about what you’ve just told me.”
He paused above me, looking down with an amused smile.
“My dear Cardover, that’s just what I expected from you. You virgin men are so brutally honest where your ideals are concerned—so hopelessly evasive in facing up to realities. Don’t you know that life is a coarse affair? I’ve lived it naturally—most strong men have at some time. I’ve been open in what I’ve done. Everybody knows the worst there is to know about me. Most men do these things in secret. I couldn’t be secret and preserve my self-respect. Skeletons in the cupboard ar’n’t much in my line. Ruthita knows me at my wickedest now; when she knows me at my best, she’ll love me.”
“When my sister marries,” I said coldly, “it’ll be to a man who can bring her something better than the dregs of his debaucheries.”