Dacier’s wandering reflections all came back in crowds to the judicial Bench of the Black Cap.  He felt finely, apart from the treason, that her want of money degraded her:  him too, by contact.  Money she might have had to any extent:  upon application for it, of course.  How was he to imagine that she wanted money!  Smilingly as she welcomed him and his friends, entertaining them royally, he was bound to think she had means.  A decent propriety bound him not to think of the matter at all.  He naturally supposed she was capable of conducting her affairs.  And—­money!  It soiled his memory:  though the hour at Rovio was rather pretty, and the scene at Copsley touching:  other times also, short glimpses of the woman, were taking.  The flood of her treachery effaced them.  And why reflect?  Constance called to him to look her way.

Diana’s letter died hard.  The corners were burnt to black tissue, with an edge or two of discoloured paper.  A small frayed central heap still resisted, and in kindness to the necessity for privacy, he impressed the fire-tongs to complete the execution.  After which he went to his desk and worked, under the presidency of Constance.

CHAPTER XXXVI

IS CONCLUSIVE AS TO THE HEARTLESSNESS OF WOMEN WITH BRAINS

Hymenaeal rumours are those which might be backed to run a victorious race with the tale of evil fortune; and clearly for the reason that man’s livelier half is ever alert to speed them.  They travel with an astonishing celerity over the land, like flames of the dry beacon-faggots of old time in announcement of the invader or a conquest, gathering as they go:  wherein, to say nothing of their vastly wider range, they surpass the electric wires.  Man’s nuptial half is kindlingly concerned in the launch of a new couple; it is the business of the fair sex:  and man himself (very strangely, but nature quickens him still) lends a not unfavouring eye to the preparations of the matrimonial vessel for its oily descent into the tides, where billows will soon be rising, captain and mate soon discussing the fateful question of who is commander.  We consent, it appears, to hope again for mankind; here is another chance!  Or else, assuming the happiness of the pair, that pomp of ceremonial, contrasted with the little wind-blown candle they carry between them, catches at our weaker fibres.

After so many ships have foundered, some keel up, like poisoned fish, at the first drink of water, it is a gallant spectacle, let us avow; and either the world perpetuating it is heroical or nature incorrigible in the species.  Marriages are unceasing.  Friends do it, and enemies; the unknown contractors of this engagement, or armistice, inspire an interest.  It certainly is both exciting and comforting to hear that man and woman are ready to join in a mutual affirmative, say Yes together again.  It sounds like the end of the war.