During the drive he was silent.

Anthony was the last man to condemn conventionally any human being, to scorn and despise even deserved misfortune.

He was ready to take old de Barral--the convict--on his daughter's valuation without the slightest reserve.

But love like his, though it may drive one into risky folly by the proud consciousness of its own strength, has a sagacity of its own.

And now, as if lifted up into a higher and serene region by its purpose of renunciation, it gave him leisure to reflect for the first time in these last few days.