He was glad to see that Oliver, hearing these words, looked very much relieved.
They walked on a few paces, and then Godfrey exclaimed, "There's one thing I do think, Oliver—and I hope you won't be angry with me for saying it! It must be admitted that you've been a great deal at The Chase alone with Laura, and also, unfortunately, that that sort of thing always does make talk in a country town."
Tropenell turned on him sternly: "What sort of thing?" he asked. "I swear before God that there has never been anything in my attitude to Laura which should give the slightest rise to comment, or afford the basest scandalmonger excuse for a word."
And he believed every word of what he said.
"I know that—I know that, my dear fellow!" Godfrey put his hand out, and for a moment it lay heavily on his friend's shoulder.
But quickly, silently, Tropenell shook himself free of the other's touch. "If you know that," he was breathing hard now, not trying to disguise his anger, "then why did you allude just now to the fact that I am a good deal in your house? Does that mean you wish that I should give up coming to The Chase?"
"No, of course I don't mean that! You're the one real friend I've made—well, since I got to man's estate," said Pavely ruefully.
Everything was going wrong. The conversation was taking a turn he had never thought of or conceived as possible. "What I mean is that Laura——"
Tropenell stopped him with a passionate gesture: "Cannot we keep Laura's name out of our discussion?"
Godfrey stared at him, genuinely astonished.