Grange didn't know, hadn't even thought of it.
"Perhaps she will elect to wear mourning all her life," suggested
Nick. "Have you thought of that?"
There was a distinct gibe in this, and Grange at once retreated to a less exposed position. "I am quite willing to wait for her," he said. "And she knows it."
"You're deuced easily pleased then," rejoined Nick. "And let me tell you—for I'm sure you don't know—there's not a single woman under the sun who appreciates that sort of patience."
Grange ignored the information with a decidedly sullen air. He did not regard Nick as particularly well qualified to give him advice upon such a subject.
After a moment Nick saw his attitude, and laughed aloud. "Yes, say it, man! It's quite true in a sense, and I shouldn't contradict you if it weren't. But has it never occurred to you that I was under a terrific disadvantage from the very beginning? Do you remember that I undertook the job that you shirked? Or do you possibly present the matter to yourself—and others—in some more attractive form?"
He turned upon his elbow with the question and regarded Grange with an odd expectancy. But Grange smoked in silence, not raising his eyes.
Suddenly Nick spoke in a different tone, a tone that was tense without vibrating. "It doesn't matter how you put it. The truth remains. You didn't love her then. If you had loved her, you must have been ready—as I was ready—to make the final sacrifice. But you were not ready. You hung back. You let me take the place which only a man who cared enough to protect her to the uttermost could have taken. You let me do this thing, and I did it. I brought her through untouched. I kept her—night and day I kept her—from harm of any sort. And she has been my first care ever since. You won't believe this, I daresay, but it's true. And—mark this well—I will only let her go to the man who will make her happy. Once I meant to be that man. You don't suppose, do you, that I brought her safe through hell just for the pleasure of seeing her marry another fellow? But it's all the same now what I did it for. I've been knocked out of the running." His eyelids suddenly quivered as if at a blow. "It doesn't matter to you how. It wasn't because she fancied any one else. She hadn't begun to think of you in those days. I let her go, never mind why. I let her go, but she is still in my keeping, and will be till she is the actual property of another man—yes, and after that too. I saved her, remember. I won the right of guardianship over her. So be careful what you do. Marry her if you love her. But if you don't, leave her alone. She shall be no man's second best. That I swear."
He ceased abruptly. His yellow face was full of passion. His hand was clenched upon the sofa-cushion. The whole body of the man seemed to thrill and quiver with electric force.
And then in a moment it all passed. As at the touching of a spring his muscles relaxed. The naked passion was veiled again—the old mask of banter replaced.