CHAPTER XXXII.
EVEN TO THE UTMOST.
"How can Love lose, doing of its kind,
Even to the utmost?"
—Edwin Arnold.
When Evelyn Desmond stumbled out of her husband's presence, stunned, bewildered, blinded with tears, the one coherent thought left in her mind was—Honor. Amid all that was terrifying and heart-breaking, Honor's love stood sure; a rock in mid-ocean—the one certainty that would never fail her, though the world went to pieces under her feet.
But Honor was not in the drawing-room; and Evelyn knocked timidly at her door.
"Come in," the low voice sounded from the other side. The girl was standing before the looking-glass, pinning on her hat.
"I was going across to ask after Mr Bradley," she explained, completing the operation before looking round. But at sight of Evelyn's face she hurried forward, holding out her arms.
"Dearest, what has happened to make you look like that?"
"Everything's happened! It's all finished between Theo and me. Broken up. He said so—and—I'm going away. There are—other people who care. I won't stay with a man who doesn't love me—or trust me——"