Jake passed the suggestion by. "I'd have known how to deal with it, anyway. Now, it seems, it's too late."
Saltash took up the envelope from the table, and returned it to his pocket. "I believe you'd have been better pleased if I hadn't married her," he observed.
Jake shook his head. "I'd be better pleased—maybe—if I knew for certain what you did it for."
"My good Jake. I don't go in for aims and motives," protested Saltash. "Call it a marriage of convenience if you feel that way! It's all the same to me."
Jake's brows contracted. "I'd give a good deal not to call it that," he said.
Saltash laughed. "Call it what you like—a whim—a fancy—the craze of the moment! You needn't waste any sentiment over it. I'm sorry about Bunny, but, if he hadn't been an ass, it wouldn't have happened. You can't blame me for that anyhow. You did the same thing yourself."
"I!" The red-brown eyes suddenly shone. "I don't follow you," said Jake deliberately.
"You married your wife to deliver her from—a fate you deemed unsuitable." Saltash's teeth showed for a moment in answer to the gleam in Jake's eyes. "You did it in an almighty hurry too."
"But—damn it—she needed protection!" Jake said. "And—at least—I loved her!"
Saltash bowed. "Hence your motive was an entirely selfish one. My wife—au contraire—is quite unhampered by a husband's devotion. I have never made love to her—yet. I have only—protected her."