He waited a moment, and then went on, hesitatingly: "But even now I don't really understand what happened--I should like to know a little more----"
Dering stayed his walk across the room, and stood opposite his friend. He felt a great wish to justify himself, and to win Wingfield's retrospective sympathy.
"I will tell you everything there is to tell!" he cried eagerly; "indeed, it can all be told in a moment. My wife and I entered into a personal contract together, which we arranged, provisionally, of course, should last ten years. Louise was quite willing, absolutely willing...." For the first time there came a defensive note in the eager voice. "You see the idea--that of leasehold marriage? We used to talk about it, you and I, of course only as a Utopian possibility. All I can say is that I had the good fortune to meet with a woman with whom I was able to try the experiment; and all I can tell you is--well, I need not tell _you_, Wingfield, that there has never been a happier marriage than ours." Again Dering started pacing up and down the room. "Louise has been everything--everything--everything--that such a man as myself could have looked for in a wife!"
"And has no one ever guessed--has no one ever known?" asked the other, rather sternly.
"Absolutely no one! Yes, wait a moment--there has been one exception. Louise told Gerda Hinton. You know they became very intimate after we went to Bedford Park, and Louise thought Gerda ought to know. But it made no difference--no difference at all!" he added, emphatically; "for in fact poor Gerda practically left her baby to Louise's care."
"And that worthless creature, Jack Hinton--does he know too?"
"No, I don't think so; in fact I may say most decidedly not--but of course Gerda may have told him, though for my part I don't believe that husbands and wives share their friends' secrets. Still, you are quite at liberty to tell Kate."
"No," said Wingfield, "I don't intend to tell Kate, and there will be no reason for doing so if you will take my advice--which is, I need hardly tell you, to go and get married at once. Now that you have come into this money, your marrying becomes a positive duty. Are you aware that if you were run over and killed on your way home to-day Louise would have no standing? that she would not have a right to a penny of this money, or even to any of the furniture which is in your house? Let me see, how long is it that you have been"--he hesitated awkwardly--"together?"