“I think I can understand,” she said. “You gave that promise not because you cared for my brother, but because you wanted to help Isobel Clandon.”
Farquhar did not beat about the bush. “Yes, I wanted to help Isobel. Naturally, I do not love your brother, but she loves him. And her happiness is my first consideration.”
Mary looked at him with her soft, kindly eyes. “I think of all the lovers I have heard or read of, you are the truest,” she said, “and also the kindliest. If our positions had been reversed, I rather doubt if I could have done that.”
But Farquhar shook his head. “Oh, you are one of God’s good women. In any situation you would act a thousand times better than I should.”
Suddenly the somnolent Earl woke up, in full possession of his faculties.
“Well, Farquhar, what do you know about Guy?” He took the matter up from the point where it had been left in abeyance.
Farquhar explained patiently that, in his opinion, Guy Rossett was in a position of considerable danger.
Naturally, at this point, Lord Saxham went off at a violent tangent.
“Then why the devil doesn’t Greatorex recall him, as I have begged him to do. Good heavens! I have been supporting this wretched Government through thick and thin. Can’t they grant me this little favour? My poor boy! He doesn’t want their infernal promotion. He will inherit a big fortune from his great-aunt. He can snap his fingers at Greatorex and the rest of them.”
Suddenly he began to sob, and buried his head in his hands. “My poor murdered boy,” he moaned. “And Greatorex sent him to his death.”