the girl had been with him.
She tried to reason away this scruple, she even reminded herself with
a bitter irony that whenever she was in Darrow's arms she was where the
girl had been before her--but she could not shake off her superstitious
dread of being with him in any of the scenes of the Parisian episode.
She replied that she was too tired for the play, and they drove back
to her apartment. At the foot of the stairs she half-turned to wish him
good night, but he appeared not to notice her gesture and followed her
up to her door.

"This is ever so much better than the theatre," he said as they entered
the drawing-room.

She had crossed the room and was bending over the hearth to light the
fire. She knew he was approaching her, and that in a moment he would
have drawn the cloak from her shoulders and laid his lips on her neck,
just below the gathered-up hair. These privileges were his and, however
deferently and tenderly he claimed them, the joyous ease of his manner
marked a difference and proclaimed a right.

"After the theatre they came home like this," she thought; and at the
same instant she felt his hands on her shoulders and shrank back.

"Don't--oh, don't!" she cried, drawing her cloak about her. She saw from
his astonished stare that her face must be quivering with pain.

"Anna! What on earth is the matter?"

"Owen knows!" she broke out, with a confused desire to justify herself.

Darrow's countenance changed. "Did he tell you so? What did he say?"

"Nothing! I knew it from the things he didn't say."

"You had a talk with him this afternoon?"

"Yes: for a few minutes. I could see he didn't want me to stay."

She had dropped into a chair, and sat there huddled, still holding her
cloak about her shoulders.

Darrow did not dispute her assumption, and she noticed that he expressed
no surprise. He sat down at a little distance from her, turning about in
his fingers the cigar-case he had drawn out as they came in. At length
he said: "Had he seen Miss Viner?"

She shrank from the sound of the name. "No...I don't think so...I'm sure
he hadn't..."

They remained silent, looking away from one another. Finally Darrow
stood up and took a few steps across the room. He came back and paused
before her, his eyes on her face.

"I think you ought to tell me what you mean to do." She raised her head
and gave him back his look. "Nothing I do can help Owen!"

"No; but things can't go on like this." He paused,