He felt that on account of the children, and altogether, he had been playing it a bit low down.
He was not incapable, either, of appreciating Edith's attitude.

She had never cross-questioned him, never asked him for a single detail, never laboured the subject, nor driven the point home, nor condescended even to try to find out how far things had really gone.

She hadn't even told him how she knew; he was ashamed to ask.
And, after that promise of forgiveness, she never referred to it; there was never the slightest innuendo, teasing, reproach.

Yes, by Jove! Edith was wonderful! And so Bruce meant to play the game too.
For several days he asked the porter at the club if there were any letters, receiving the usual reply, 'None, sir.' The third day he received the following note, and took it to read with enjoyment of the secrecy combined with a sort of self-important shame.
Until now he hadn't communicated with her:-- 'Dear Mr Ottley, Of course you know I'm not returning to the children after the holidays, nor am I going with you to Westgate.

I'm very unhappy, for I fear I have offended Mrs Ottley.