And because I must forget all this and remember only that my duty is absolutely rigid and inflexible.

If I condoned your offence, if I suppressed inquiry, I should be in duty and honour bound to offer my own resignation to his Majesty's Government.
And I have to think of other things besides my personal feelings, when at any moment now the French may be over the Agueda and into Portugal." Sir Terence's face flushed, and his glance brightened.
"From my heart I thank you that you can even think of such things at such a time and after what I have done." "Oh, as to what you have done--I understand that you are a fool, O'Moy.
There's no more to be said.

You are to consider yourself under arrest.
I must do it if you were my own brother, which, thank God, you're not.
Come, Grant.

Good-bye, O'Moy." And he held out his hand to him.
Sir Terence hesitated, staring.
"It's the hand of your friend, Arthur Wellesley, I'm offering you, not the hand of your commanding officer," said his lordship savagely.
Sir Terence took it, and wrung it in silence, perhaps more deeply moved than he had yet been by anything that had happened to him that morning.
There was a knock at the door, and Mullins opened it to admit the adjutant's orderly, who came stiffly to attention.
"Major Carruthers's compliments, sir," he said to O'Moy, "and his Excellency the Secretary of the Council of Regency wishes to see you very urgently." There was a pause.

O'Moy shrugged and spread his hands.