"Then Olive must read it--I must read it. We must know the truth."
The vicar remained silent, and his brow wrinkled. "Who gains knowledge gains sorrow," he said, aphoristically. "It will do neither you nor Olive any good to learn the follies of a young man. However, I will read the document, and--if I can legitimately do so--I will send it to Olive."
"Is the secret so very terrible, then?"
"It is very terrible."
"Is her father----"
"Mr. Mallow," protested the vicar, wiping his wet forehead, "I have said all I intend to say, until I read this letter. If I can send it to Olive, it shall be sent. Please leave me. I--I have overtaxed my strength. Touch the bell, please, as you go out."
Although Mallow would fain have stayed, there was nothing left for him to do but to obey this peremptory request. He could not but acknowledge that Mr. Brock was acting in an eminently reasonable way. A secret of such moment as this appeared to be could not be communicated hastily and without due consideration.
When next he saw Olive, Mallow told her what she might expect. With characteristic firmness, she chose to abide by her decision.
"I must know the truth," she declared, "at whatever cost. So long as you and I are together, Laurence, nothing can hurt us."
"You tempt the gods, my dearest," replied Laurence, and sighed.