ut
of his own thoughts.

"I say, are those Powells still here?"

"They've been here all the time."

"Do you see much of them?"

"I see them every day. Sometimes nearly all day."

"That accounts for it."

Again he paused.

"It's my fault, Agatha. I shouldn't have left you to them. I knew."

"What did you know?"

"Well--the state he was in, and the effect it would have on you--that it
would have on any one."

"It's all right. He's going. Besides, he isn't in a state any more. He's
cured."

"Cured? What's cured him?"

She evaded him.

"He's been well ever since he came; absolutely well after the first
day."

"Still, you've been frightened; you've been worrying; you've had some
shock or other, or some strain. What is it?"

"Nothing. Only--just the last week--I've been a little frightened about
you--when you wouldn't write to me. Why didn't you?"

"Because I couldn't."

"Then you _were_ ill."

"I'm all right. I know what's the matter with me."

"It's Bella?"

He laughed harshly.

"No, it isn't this time. I haven't that excuse."

"Excuse for what?"

"For coming. Bella's all right. Bella's a perfect angel. God knows
what's happened to her. I don't. _I_ haven't had anything to do with
it."

"You had. You had everything. You were an angel, too."

"I haven't been much of an angel lately, I can tell you."

"She'll understand. She does understand."

They had sat down on the couch in the corner so that they faced each
other. Agatha faced him, but fear was in her eyes.

"It doesn't matter," he said, "whether she understands or not. I don't
want to talk about her."

Agatha said nothing, but there was a movement in her face, a white wave
of trouble, and the fear fluttered in her eyes. He saw it there.

"You needn't bother about Bella. She's all right. You see, it's not as
if she cared."

"Cared?"

"About _me_ much."

"But she does, she does care!"

"I suppose she did once, or she couldn't have married me. But she
doesn't now. You see--you may as well know it, Agatha--there's another
man."

"Oh, Rodney, no."

"Yes. It's been perfectly all right, you know; but there he is and
there he's been for years. She told me. I'm awfully sorry for her."

He paused.

"What beats me is her being so angelic now, when she doesn't care."

"Rodney, she does. It's all over, like an illness. It's you she cares
for _now_."

"Think so?"

"I'm sure of it."

"I'm not."

"You will be. You'll see i