a great sense of honor. He is not satisfied about her past life; he does n't know what to think of what we have been told. Even what she admits is so strange. She has been married four or five times—she has been divorced again and again—it seems so extraordinary. She tells him that in America it is different, and I daresay you have not our ideas; but really there is a limit to everything. There must have been some great irregularities—I am afraid some great scandals. It 's dreadful to have to accept such things. He has not told me all this; but it 's not necessary he should tell me; I know him well enough to guess."
"Does he know that you have spoken to me?" Waterville asked.
"Not in the least. But I must tell you that I shall repeat to him anything that you may say against her."
"I had better say nothing, then. It 's very delicate. Mrs. Headway is quite undefended. One may like her or not, of course. I have seen nothing of her that is not perfectly correct."
"And you have heard nothing?"
Waterville remembered Littlemore's assertion that there were cases in which a man was bound in honor to tell an untruth, and he wondered whether this were such a case. Lady Demesne imposed herself, she made him believe in the reality of her grievance, and he saw the gulf that divided her from a pushing little woman who had lived with Western editors.
