’I tell you I am doing it with a good motive.  If you were a thorough Socialist, you would respect me all the more.  This money was made out of overworked—­’

He was laying his hand on the will; she sprang forward and grasped his arm.

‘Richard, give it to me!’

‘No, I shall not.’

He had satisfied himself that if the will was actually destroyed she would acquiesce in silence; the shame she spoke of would constrain her.  He pushed her away without violence, and moved towards the door.  But her muteness caused him to turn and regard her.  She was leaning forward, her lips parted, her eyes fixed in despair.

‘Richard!’

‘Well?’

‘Are you trying me?’

‘What do you mean?’

’Do you believe that I should let you do that and help you to hide it?’

’You will come to see that I was right, and be glad that I paid no heed to you.’

’Then you don’t know me.  Though you are my husband I would make public what you had done.  Nothing should silence me.  Do you drive me to that?’

The absence of passion in her voice impressed him far more than violence could have done.  Her countenance had changed from pleading to scorn.

He stood uncertain.

‘Now indeed,’ Adela continued, ’I am doing what no woman should have to do.’  Her voice became bitter.  ’I have not a man’s strength; I can only threaten you with shame which will fall more heavily on myself.’

‘Your word against mine,’ he muttered, trying to smile.

‘You could defend yourself by declaring me infamous?’

Did he know the meaning of that flash across her face?  Only when the words were uttered did their full significance strike Adela herself.

‘You could defend yourself by saying that I lied against you?’

He regarded her from beneath his eyebrows as she repeated the question.  In the silence which followed he seated himself on the chair nearest to him.  Adela too sat down.

For more than a quarter of an hour they remained thus, no word exchanged.  Then Adela rose and approached her husband.

‘If I order the carriage,’ she said softly, ’will you come with me at once to Belwick?’

He gave no answer.  He was sitting with his legs crossed, the will held over his knee.

‘I am sorry you have this trial,’ she continued, ’deeply sorry.  But you have won, I know you have won!’

He turned his eyes in a direction away from her, hesitated, rose.

‘Get your things on.’

He was going to the door.

‘Richard!’

She held her hand for the parchment.

‘You can’t trust me to the bottom of the stairs?’ he asked bitterly.

She all but laughed with glad confidence.

‘Oh, I will trust you!’

CHAPTER XXV