I
don't want to live permanently abroad, and I do want to go in for
activity--political by preference. The result is we must set our
faces, tell lies, and hope that fortune will favour us."
There was a strong contrast between Quarrier's glowing vehemence and
the show of calm reflection which the other maintained as he
listened. Denzil's face was fully lighted by the fire; his friend's
received the shadow of an old-fashioned screen which Glazzard,
finding the heat oppressive, had pulled forward a few minutes ago.
The frank, fearless gaze with which Denzil's words were accompanied
met no response; but to this habit in the listener he was
accustomed.
"Yes, we must tell lies!" Quarrier emphasized the words savagely.
"Social law is stupid and unjust, imposing its obligation without
regard to person or circumstance. It presumes that no one can be
_trusted_. I decline to be levelled with the unthinking multitude.
You and I can be a law to ourselves. What I shall do is this: On
returning to town next week, I shall take Lilian over to Paris. We
shall live there for several weeks, and about the end of the time I
shall write to my people here, and tell them that I have just been
married."
He paused. Glazzard made no motion, and uttered no sound.
"I have already dropped a mysterious word or two to my Mister, which
she will be able to interpret afterwards.
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