Grail had said that in Lambeth people were gossiping evil of him.  Such gossip, he understood too well, would have its lasting effect.  No contradiction could avail against it.  Even if Thyrza returned, it would be impossible for her to resume her life in the old places; the truth could never be so spread as to counteract the harm already done.  Lambeth had lost its free library.  How long would it wait before another man was found able and willing to do so much on its behalf?

Looking in the other direction, he could now explain that scene at Charing Cross.  Dalmaine, through his connection with Lambeth, had already heard the story.  He took this way of showing that he was informed of everything, and of manifesting his august disapproval.  It needed only a word of admonition to Paula, and she at once recognised how improper it would be to hold further relations with so unprincipled a man.  So they turned away, and, in the vulgar phrase, ‘cut’ him

The Dalmaines knowing, of course their relatives and their friends knew.  The Tyrrells would by this time have discussed the whole shocking affair, doubtless with the decision that they could no longer be ‘at home’ to Mr. Egremont.

And if the Tyrrells—­then Annabel Newthorpe.

Would Annabel give faith to such a charge against him?  Perhaps such evidence would be adduced to her that she could have no choice but to judge and condemn him.  Gilbert Grail had thought him infamous; perhaps Annabel would hesitate as little.  She would have remarked a strangeness in his manner to her, explicable now.  Believing, how she must scorn him!  How those beautiful eyes of hers would speak in one glance of cold contempt, if ever he passed beneath them!  She might take the nobler part; she might hold it incredible till she had a confession from his very lips.  But were women magnanimous?  And Annabel, very clear in thought, very pure in soul—­was she after all so far above her sisters as to face all hazard of human weakness in defence of an ideal?

Annabel, now in London, would write the news to Mrs. Ormonde.  Would it receive credence from her—­his dearest friend?  Assuredly not, if she had known nothing to give the calumny startling support.  But there was that letter he wrote to her about Thyrza; there was her recollection of the interview in Great Russell Street, when it might be that he had betrayed himself.  She had found him in a state of perturbation which he could not conceal; it was on the eve of his own departure from London—­of Thyrza’s disappearance.  Well, she too must form her own judgment.  If she wrote to him and asked plainly for information, he would know how to reply.  Till she wrote, he must keep silence.

So there was the head-roll of his friends.  No, he had omitted Annabel’s father.  Mr. Newthorpe was a student, and apt to be humorously cynical in his judgment of men.  To him the story would not appear incredible.  Youth, human nature, a passionate temperament; these explain so much to the unprejudiced mind.  Mr. Newthorpe must go with the rest.