p?" he said.

Again at his approach she made a more pronounced movement of shrinking.
"But, I've been waiting for you," she said rather hopelessly.

He came to her, stood looking down at her, the old bitter frown
struggling with a more kindly expression on his face. He was obviously
waiting for something with no pleasant sense of anticipation.

But Vera did not speak. She only sat drawn together, her fingers locked
and her eyes downcast. She was using her utmost strength to keep
herself in hand.

"Well?" he said at length, a faint ring of irritation in his voice, "Have
you nothing to say to me now I have come?"

Her lips quivered a little. "I don't think--there is anything to be
said," she said. "I knew--I felt--it was too good to last."

"It's over then, is it?" he said, the bitterness gaining the upper hand
because of the misery at his heart. "The indiscretions of my youth have
placed me finally beyond the pale. Is that it?"

She gripped her hands together a little more tightly. "I think you have
been--you are--rather cruel," she said, her voice very low. "If you had
only--told me!"

He made a gesture of exasperation. "My dear girl, for heaven's sake,
look at the thing fairly if you can! How long have I known you well
enough to let you into my secrets? How long have you been up to hearing
them? I meant to tell you--as you know. I've been on the verge of it
more than once. It wasn't cowardice that held me back. It was
consideration for you."

She glanced at him momentarily. "I see," she said in that small quivering
voice of hers that told so little of the wild tumult within her.

"Well?" he said harshly. "And that is my condemnation, is it? Henceforth
I am to be thrust outside--a sinner beyond redemption. Is that it?"

Her eyelids fluttered nervously, but she did not raise them again. She
leaned instead towards the fire. Her shoulders were bent. She looked
crushed, as if her vitality were gone, and yet so slender, so young, in
her thin wrap. He clinched his hands with a sharp intake of the breath,
and his frown deepened.

"So you won't speak to me?" he said. "It's beyond words, is it? It's to
be an insurmountable obstacle to happiness for the rest of our lives? We
go back to the old damnable existence we've led for so long! Or
perhaps--" his voice hardened--"perhaps you think we should be better
apart? Perhaps you would prefer to leave me?"

She flinched at that--flinched as if he had struck her--and the