"Between us, it makes no difference, I hope?" said Dyce, with an emphasised effort of cheeriness. "Unless you think me a paltry fellow, ready to do anything to get on?"
"I don't think that," replied Constance, quietly.
"But you feel that what I was going to ask would have been rather a severe test of friendship?"
"Under the circumstances, I could have pardoned you."
"But you wouldn't have got beyond forgiveness?"
Constance smiled coldly, her look wandering.
"How can I tell?"
"But—oh, never mind! Good-bye, for the present."
He pressed her hand again, and turned away. Before he had reached the door, Constance's voice arrested him.
"Mr. Lashmar—"