Once it had tormented him; he had struggled against it; later, it had become a source of endless interest, like a man's amusing dialogues with his own soul; now, it was the one solitary refuge of his hope.

He clung to it, he could not let it go.

He staked his all on the folly, the frailty of Mrs.Nevill Tyson.
He had yet to prove it.
Of course she was a little fool; that went without saying.

He had known many women who were fools, and he had survived their folly.

But it seemed that he could not live without this particular little fool.
He called the next day at Ridgmount Gardens.
Mrs.Nevill Tyson's manner was a little disconcerting.