‘Would you promise me to be back by the end of the year?’

’Not promise, Nancy.  But do my best.  Letters take fourteen days, that’s all.  You should hear by every mail.’

‘Why not promise?’

’Because I can’t foresee how much I may have to do there, and how long it will take me.  But you may be very sure that Vawdrey won’t pay expenses for longer than he can help.  It has occurred to me that I might get materials for some magazine articles.  That would help to float me with the editors, you know, if it’s necessary.’

Nancy sighed.

’If I consented—­if I did my best not to stand in your way—­ would you love me better when you came back?’

The answer was a pleased laugh.

‘Why, there,’ he cried, ’you’ve given in a nutshell the whole duty of a wife who wishes to be loved!’

Nancy tried to laugh with him.

CHAPTER 8

He must be a strong man whom the sudden stare of Penury does not daunt and, in some measure, debase.  Tarrant, whatever the possibilities of his nature, had fallen under a spell of indolent security, which declared its power only when he came face to face with the demand for vigorous action.  The moment found him a sheer poltroon.  ’What!  Is it possible that I—­I—­am henceforth penniless?  I, to whom the gods were so gracious?  I, without warning, flung from sheltered comfort on to the bare road side, where I must either toil or beg?’ The thing seemed unintelligible.  He had never imagined such ruin of his hopes.

For the first time, he turned anxious thoughts upon the money to which his wife was—­would be—­might be—­entitled.  He computed the chances of success in the deception he and she were practising, and knew with shame that he must henceforth be party to a vulgar fraud.  Could Nancy be trusted to carry through this elaborate imposition—­difficult for the strongest-minded woman?  Was it not a certainty that some negligence, or some accident, must disclose her secret?  Then had he a wife and child upon his hands, to support even as common men support wife and child, by incessant labour.  The prospect chilled him.

If he went to the West Indies, his absence would heighten the probability of Nancy’s detection.  Yet he desired to escape from her.  Not to abandon her; of that thought he was incapable; but to escape the duty—­repulsive to his imagination—­of encouraging her through the various stages of their fraud.  From the other side of the Atlantic he would write affectionate, consolatory letters; face to face with her, could he support the show of tenderness, go through an endless series of emotional interviews, always reminding himself that the end in view was hard cash?  Not for love’s sake; he loved her less than before she proved herself his wife in earnest.  Veritable love—­no man knew better—­would have impelled him to save himself and her from a degrading position.