"Oh, Alice! that this thing should have come upon me through thy fault!"
When Vavasor was led away down stairs by the tailor, and Grey found that no more actual fighting would be required of him, he retired into his bedroom, that he might wash his mouth and free himself from the stains of the combat. He had heard the front door closed, and knew that the miscreant was gone,--the miscreant who had disturbed his quiet. Then he began to think what was the accusation with which Vavasor had charged him. He had been told that he had advanced money on behalf of Alice, in order that he might obtain some power over Alice's fortune, and thus revenge himself upon Alice for her treatment of him. Nothing could be more damnably false than this accusation. Of that he was well aware. But were not the circumstances of a nature to make it appear that the accusation was true? Security for the money advanced by him, of course, he had none;--of course he had desired none;--of course the money had been given out of his own pocket with the sole object of saving Alice, if that might be possible; but of all those who might hear of this affair, how many would know or even guess the truth?

"Oh, Alice! that this should have come upon me through your fault!"
Once Vavasor had gone, Grey retired into his bedroom to wash his face. Then he began to think about Vavasor's accusation, that he had advanced money on Alice's behalf in order to obtain some power over her, and revenge himself for her treatment of him. Nothing could be more damnably false than this accusation. But might it not appear to be true? If people heard of this affair, how many would guess the truth?
