He looked away into the wood, and was silent.

“But what when folks find out?” he asked at last. “Think about it! Think how lowered you’ll feel, one of your husband’s servants.”

She looked up at his averted face.

“Is it,” she stammered, “is it that you don’t want me?”

“Think!” he said. “Think what if folks finds out⁠—Sir Clifford an’ a’⁠—an’ everybody talkin’⁠—”

“Well, I can go away.”

“Where to?”

“Anywhere! I’ve got money of my own. My mother left me twenty thousand pounds in trust, and I know Clifford can’t touch it. I can go away.”

“But ’appen you don’t want to go away.”

“Yes, yes! I don’t care what happens to me.”