Gilbert could discover nothing from that broad stare
of blank amazement.
"In heaven's name, what can have put such a preposterous notion into your
head?" Sir David asked coolly.
"I cannot tell you. The conviction has grown upon me, against my own
will. Yes, I have hated myself for being able to suspect my friend. You
do not know how I have loved that man, or how our friendship began at
Oxford long ago with something like hero-worship on my side. I thought
that he was born to be great and noble; and heaven knows I have felt the
disappointments and shortcomings of his career more keenly than he has
felt them himself. No, Sir David, I don't think it is possible for any
man to comprehend how I have loved John Saltram."
"And yet, without a shred of evidence, you believe him guilty of
betraying you."
"Will you give me your word of honour that Marian's husband and John
Saltram are not one and the same person?"
"No," answered Sir David impatiently; "I am tired of the whole business.
You have questioned and cross-questioned me quite long enough, Mr.
Fenton, and I have answered you to the best of my ability, and have given
you rational advice, which you will of course decline to take. If you
think your friend has wronged you, go to him, and tax him with that
wrong. I wash my hands of the affair altogether, from this moment; but,
without wishing to be offensive, I cannot help telling you, that to my
mind you are acting very foolishly in this business.
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