“Oh, as to that—!” She swept it aside with one of her airy motions. “But Dillon, for instance—would he have been happier if I’d been passive?”
Amherst seemed to ponder. “There again—how can one tell?”
“And the risk’s not worth taking?”
“No!”
She paused, and they looked at each other again. “Do you mean that seriously, I wonder? Do you"
“Act on it myself? God forbid! The gods drive so badly. There’s poor Dillon … he happened to be in their way … as we all are at times.” He pulled himself up, and went on in a matter-of—fact tone: “In Dillon’s case, however, my axioms don’t apply. When my wife heard the truth she was, of course, immensely kind to him; and if it hadn’t been for you she might never have known.”
Justine smiled. “I think you would have found out—I was only the humble instrument. But now—” she hesitated—“now you must be able to do so much—”
Amherst lifted his head, and she saw the colour rise under his fair skin. “Out at Westmore? You’ve never been there since? Yes—my wife has made some changes; but it’s all so problematic—and one would have to live here …”
“You don’t, then?”
He answered by an imperceptible shrug. “Of course
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