And these things which she could tell herself with a clear conscience served her better than the passionate obstinacy of purpose could serve Roderick Anthony. She was much more sure of herself than he was. Such are the advantages of mere rectitude over the most exalted generosity.
And so they went out to get married, the people of the house where she lodged having no suspicion of anything of the sort. They were only excited at a “gentleman friend” (a very fine man too) calling on Miss Smith for the first time since she had come to live in the house. When she returned, for she did come back alone, there were allusions made to that outing. She had to take her meals with these rather vulgar people. The woman of the house, a scraggy, genteel person, tried even to provoke confidences. Flora’s white face with the deep blue eyes did not strike their hearts as it did the heart of Captain Anthony, as the very face of the suffering world. Her pained reserve had no power to awe them into decency.
Well, she returned alone—as in fact might have been expected. After leaving the Registry Office Flora de Barral and Roderick Anthony had gone for a walk in a park. It must have been an East-End park but I am not sure. Anyway that’s what they did. It was a sunny day. He said to her: “Everything I have in the world belongs to you. I have seen to that without troubling my brother-in-law. They have no call to interfere.”
She walked with her hand resting lightly on his arm. He had offered it to her on coming out of the Registry Office, and she had accepted it silently. Her head drooped, she seemed to be turning matters over in her mind. She said, alluding to the Fynes: “They have been very good to me.” At that he exclaimed:
“They have never understood you. Well, not properly. My sister is not a bad woman, but . . . ”
Flora didn’t protest; asking herself whether he imagined that he himself understood her so much better. Anthony dismissing his family out of his thoughts went on: “Yes. Everything is yours. I have kept nothing back. As to the piece of paper we have just got from that miserable quill-driver if it wasn’t for the law, I wouldn’t mind if you tore it up here, now, on this spot. But don’t you do it. Unless you should some day feel that—”
He choked, unexpectedly. She, reflective, hesitated a moment then making up her mind bravely.
“Neither am I keeping anything back from you.”
She had said it! But he in his blind generosity assumed that she was alluding to her deplorable history and hastened to mutter:
“Of course! Of course! Say no more. I have been lying awake thinking of it all no end of times.”