"I was thinking of Mme. d'Imblevalle. How sad she must be! Her life is ruined."
"Not at all, not at all," he said, eagerly. "Her fault is not one of those which can never be forgiven. M. d'Imblevalle will forget that lapse. Already, when we left, he was looking at her less harshly."
"Perhaps ... but it will take long to forget ... and she is suffering."
"Are you very fond of her?"
"Very. That gave me such strength to smile when I was trembling with fear, to look you in the face when I wanted to avoid your glance."
"And are you unhappy at leaving her?"
"Most unhappy. I have no relations or friends.... I had only her...."
"You shall have friends," said the Englishman, whom this grief was upsetting, "I promise you that.... I have connections.... I have much influence.... I assure you that you will not regret your position...."
"Perhaps, but Mme. d'Imblevalle will not be there...."
They exchanged no more words. Holmlock Shears took two or three more turns along the deck and then came back and settled down near his travelling-companion.