He had driven by the corner of the Park, where the path over the downs left the main road and within a few hundred yards of him at that moment, had been, dead or alive, the man who had so vilely slandered him.

Supposing--it might so easily have happened--they had met on the road.

What would he have done?
Would he have been able to pass him and not wreaked his rage on him?
He hardly dared to think of that.

But, life and love were his, and that which might have been was soon dreamlike in comparison of these.

Indeed, that dreadful dream which he had had the night after the murder had been committed was no less real than it.