"Am I to go through the world saving men from their own passions?" she returned scornfully. "Shame upon you, Dr. Nestley, to take refuge behind such a weak defence. Surely because a woman refuses to marry a man he ought not to lower himself as you have done, and then lay the blame on her instead of himself--you ought to make an end of this folly."
"Just what I was thinking," he muttered, glancing at the river. She instinctively guessed what the glance meant, and looked at him, saying:
"Would you add suicide to the rest of your follies?--that is a coward's refuge and one not worthy of a clever man like you. Come, Doctor Nestley," she continued, laying a kind hand on his shoulder, "be advised by me. Give up this mad love of drink which is lowering you to the level of the brutes, and go back to your home--then amid your old companions you will soon forget that I ever existed."
"Never! Never!" he said in a broken voice.
"Oh yes you will," she replied cheerfully. "Time is a wonderful consoler--besides, Doctor Nestley, I could never have married you, for though you did not know then you know now--I am going to marry Mr. Blake."
"And what difference will that make to you?" he asked mockingly, lifting his dull eyes to her earnest face.
"I do not understand you," she said coldly, drawing back.
"Then I can easily explain," replied the young man quickly, "the only difference will be this--you love him, you do not love me--for the rest both Reginald Blake--or shall I call him Garsworth?--and myself will be equal in all else."
"You are talking wildly," said Una in an icy tone, "so I shall leave you--permit me to pass if you please?"
"Not till I have had my say," he retorted, his eyes growing bright. "I can wring your proud heart now as you wrung mine then. I saw your look of horror when you looked at me and saw how low I had fallen through drink--in the same way you will look upon your lover when he returns from the guardianship of Basil Beaumont."