"I am sorry to pain you," I replied, briefly; "but the fact is, I was struck with Miss Sinclair's face—there is a great deal of strength in it. If you conquered your fault, she would be the woman of all others to keep you straight. She is, I am certain, attached to you. To win a girl like Beatrice Sinclair ought to be a motive strong enough to make any man conquer a vice like yours."
Tollemache was now intensely agitated. He sprang to his feet.
"I tell you," he said, "she has forgotten all about me. It is three years since she has heard my name. She has in all probability married another man long ere this."
"I am sure she has not," I answered.
He thrust his hand into his breast pocket, and drew out the case which contained the photograph.
"Many a time I have wanted to put this into the fire," he said. "I dare not part with it, and yet I dare not look at it."
"Keep it," I said: "there is hope for you while you have it."
"There isn't a ghost of hope for me," he said. He threw himself back again into his chair, and covered his face.
My servant came into the room and brought me a message.
"Tollemache," I said, "a lady has called who wishes to see me. Will you forgive me if I leave you for a minute or two?"