That is to say, he is either
whole-heartedly for him or whole-heartedly against him. Well,
now we know that he is against him, definitely against him."
"But, I say, you know," protested Bill, "one doesn't necessarily
try to ruin one's rival in love."
"Doesn't one?" said Antony, turning to him with a smile.
Bill blushed.
"Well, of course, one never knows, but I mean--"
"You mightn't try to ruin him, Bill, but you wouldn't perjure
yourself in order to get him out of a trouble of his own making."
"Lord! no."
"So that of the two alternatives the other is the more likely."
They had come to the gate into the last field which divided them
from the road, and having gone through it, they turned round and
leant against it, resting for a moment, and looking down at the
house which they had left.
"Jolly little place, isn't it?" said Bill.
"Very. But rather mysterious."
"In what way?"
"Well, where's the front door?"
"The front door? Why, you've just come out of it."
"But isn't there a drive, or a road or anything?"
Bill laughed.
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