“Yes. But perhaps I was hasty.”
“Oh no. I own up. Honest Injun, as we say in America. I was a cad. Only, having called your friend a cad, you owe it to him to allow him to retrieve his character in your eyes.”
“Why should you be so anxious to do so?” asked Raine, struck with the man's earnestness.
“Because I've got sort of fond of you,” replied the American. “Will you listen to me for two minutes?”
“Certainly.”
“Then I'll tell you that I'm going direct, this very minute, to ask that lady to marry me.
“To marry you?” cried Raine, with the blood in his cheeks. “It would be an insult!”
“It's a pity you think so,” returned Hockmaster reflectively. “I wish I could unmake my mind, but you see it's all fixed up already.”
“What's fixed up?”
“That I should ask her. Mr. Chetwynd, this is the first chance I have had. For eight years I have lost every trace of her. If you know a more honourable way of repairing the wrong, you just tell me.”