"A question of honor?"
"I suppose so."
The Professor grunted, and then chuckled.
"A man's honor towards a woman lasts as long as his love. When that goes, it goes with it—to the other woman."
"You cynic!" said John Derringham.
"It is the truth, my son. A man's point of view of such things shifts with his inclinations, and if other people are not likely to know, he does not experience any qualms in thinking of the woman's feelings—it is only of what the world will think of him if it finds him out. Complete cowards, all of us!"
John Derringham frowned. He hated to know this was true.
"Well, I am not going to marry Mrs. Cricklander, Master," he announced after a while.
"I am very glad to hear it," Cheiron said heartily. "I never like to see a fine ship going upon the rocks. All your vitality would have been drawn out of you by those octopus arms."
"I do not agree with you in the least about any of those points," John Derringham said stiffly. "I have the highest respect for Mrs. Cricklander—but I can't do it."