"I am afraid," he said, "that you have not been well!"
There was a touch of her old self in the hardness of her low laugh.
"It is remorse!" she declared. "I think that for once in my life I have permitted myself to think! It is a great mistake. One loses confidence when one realizes what a beast one is."
He waited in silence. It seemed to him the best thing. She sat down a little wearily. He remained standing a few feet away.
"I have given you away, Lawrence," she said, quietly.
"So," he remarked, "I understand."
"Hester has told you, of course. I am not blaming her. She did quite right. Only I should have told you myself. I wanted to be the first to assure you of this. Our secret is quite safe. The man—with whom I made a fool of myself—has given me his word of honour."
"Sir Leslie Borrowdean's—word of honour!" Mannering remarked, with slow scorn. "Do you know the man, I wonder?"
"I know that he wishes to be your friend, and not your enemy," she said.
"He chooses his friends for what they are worth to him," Mannering answered. "It is all a matter of self-interest. He has some idea of making me the stepping-stone to his advancement. I have a place just now in his scheme of life. But as for friendship! Borrowdean does not know the meaning of the word."