"I know it. Nothing can excuse my cowardice—my weakness. I know all that, but it is not too late even now to make amends. In a week they will all know the truth."
"What—what do you mean?"
"I have requested all whom it concerns to come to Wyncham the Friday after this."
"Good heavens! Dick, Dick, think!"
"I have thought. God! how I have thought!"
"It is not fair to me! Oh, think of your honour—Wyncham!"
"My honour is less than nothing. 'Tis of his that I think."
She sprang up, clutching at his arm, shaking him.
"Richard, you are mad! You must not do this! You must not, I say!"
"I implore you, Lavinia, not to try to make me change my decision. It is of no use. Nothing you can say will make any difference."