The soi-disant Valade escapes and takes my proof, which I have broken on his head. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. The two friends contrasted strikingly with each other. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade. He found the horse where Thames told him he would find him, mounted, and rode off across the fields in the direction of town. ‘I trust you were not altogether disgusted when I kissed you.
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