down," he said, "and tell me what is the matter."

She sank down mutely. Her mouth was quivering; she sought to hide it
from him with her hand.

"Tell me," he said again, and quietly though he spoke there was in his
tone a certain mastery that had never asserted itself in the old days;
"What is it? Why have you come to me like this?"

"I--haven't come to stay, Will," she said, her voice so low that it
was barely audible.

His face changed. He looked suddenly dogged. "After twenty months!" he
said.

She bent her head. "I know. It's half a lifetime--more. You have
learnt to do without me by this. At least--I hope you have--for your
own sake."

He made no comment on the words; perhaps he did not hear them. After a
brief silence she heard his voice above her bowed head. "Something is
wrong. You'll tell me presently, won't you? But--really you needn't be
afraid."

Something in the words--was it a hint of tenderness?--renewed her
failing strength. She commanded herself and raised her head. She
scarcely recognised in the steady, square-chinned man before her
the impulsive, round-faced boy she had left. There was something
unfathomable about him, a hint of greatness that affected her
strangely.

"Yes," she said. "Something is wrong. It is what I am here for--what I
have come to tell you. And when it is over, I'm going away--I'm going
away--out of your life--for ever, this time."

His jaw hardened, but he said nothing whatever. He stood waiting for
her to continue.

She rose slowly to her feet though she was scarcely capable of
standing. She had come to the last ounce of her strength, but she
spent it bravely.

"Will," she said, and though her voice shook uncontrollably every word
was clear, "I hardly know how to say it. You have always trusted me,
always been true to me. I think--once--you almost worshipped me. But
you'll never worship me any more, because--because--I am unworthy of
you. Do you understand? I was held back from the final wickedness,
or--or I shouldn't be here now. But the sin was there in my heart.
Heaven help me, it is there still. There! I have told you. It--was
your right. I don't ask for mercy or forgiveness. Only punish
me--punish me--and then--let me--go!"

Voice and strength failed together. Her limbs doubled under her,
and she sank suddenly down at his feet, sobbing--terrible, painful,
tearless sobs that seemed to rend her very being.

Without a word he stooped and lifted her. He was w