"And if I did, how would it concern you?"
"Oh, merely that I think you ought to tell him, or let me."
"You think he would do it?"
"Like winkin'. Oh, I beg your pardon. I would, I know, just as I would do any mortal thing you cared to ask me. Ask me, Honour. Can't you give me a bit of hope?"
"How can I? You would not be satisfied—either of you—if I said I would marry you just to escape from unpleasantness of this kind. I mean"—hastily, as she caught sight of his face—"I dislike so much hurting people's feelings, but with you and Mr Charteris I seem able to do nothing else. If you would only both take my answer as final, and let us all be happy and friendly together as we were before this idea came into your minds!"
"We weren't," said Gerrard doggedly. "I was introduced to you two days before Charteris was, and all that time I was in terror, guessing what would happen as soon as he saw you. And sure enough, he raved about you all night, until I put a stop to it by throwing things across the room."
"Please don't tell me things of that kind," said Honour, her colour rising. "They do not interest me. You have a great influence over Mr Charteris. Why not use it to make him see things sensibly, and give up these attempts?"
"Because I wouldn't do it myself. If you could say that you felt the least kindness towards one of us, then the other would withdraw—or towards any one else, then both of us, I hope, would do the proper thing and leave him in peace. But while there's still a fair chance—why, I shall hold on, and so will old Bob, if I know anything of him."
"That is exactly what Mr Charteris said," remarked Honour musingly. "Well, I am very sorry, and I wish I could get you to look at things more sensibly, but really it is not my fault."
"You can't even hold out any hope for the future?"