"But you, Colling——" Peggy said.
Collingwood's hand was upon the door. "Never mind about me," he said. "Peggy, I did a rotten thing because I cared for you, but I've tried to play the game since for the same reason; and if George can really forgive me for just the same reason——"
He stopped, looking with a wan, pathetic, but very tender face at the two who stood there clinging to each other.
Peggy looked up into her husband's face. "George!" she said quietly.
"—I think I'll go on playing it," Collingwood ended.
Admaston did not look at Collingwood, but he looked down at his wife. Then he lifted his head and smiled with a sort of grave kindness at the man by the door.
"I think I can forgive you anything to-day, Colling," he said.
Collingwood half turned the handle. "Good-bye, then, little Butterfly," he said, and there was a dreadful pain in his voice.
Peggy looked up into her husband's face.
What she saw there satisfied her.