"Mr. Northway," replied the widow, "I almost think that he would
care less for such a disclosure _before_ this election than _after_
it."
He met her eyes, and tried to understand her. But whatever she
meant, it could be of no importance to him. Quarrier was doomed by
the Tory agent; on this knowledge he congratulated himself, in spite
of the fact that another state of things would have been more to his
interest.
"I have really nothing to do with that," he replied. "My wife is
living a life of wickedness--and she shall be saved from it at
once."
Mrs. Wade had much difficulty in keeping her countenance. She looked
down, and drew a deep sigh.
"That is only too true. But I fear--indeed I fear--that you
won't succeed in parting them. There is a reason--I cannot mention
it."
Northway was puzzled for a moment, then his face darkened; he seemed
to understand.
"I do so wish," pursued Mrs. Wade, with a smile of sympathy, "that I
could be of some use in this sad affair. My advice--I am afraid
you will be very unwilling to listen to it."
She paused, looking at him wistfully.
"What would it be?" he asked.
"I feel so strongly--just as you do--that it is dreadful to have
to countenance such a state of things; but I am convinced that it
would be very, very _unwise_ if you went _at once_ to extremities,
Mr. Northway.
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