ne had changed suddenly.

"Well--I believed you, that's all."

Brook stood quite still, and looked at her quietly. Some seconds passed
before she spoke again.

"You did not mean it?" she asked sorrowfully.

Still he said nothing.

"Because you know," she continued, her eyes fixed on his, "the position
is not at all impossible. All things considered, I suppose I could have
a divorce for the asking."

Clare started a little in the dark. She was beginning to guess something
of the truth she could not understand. The man still said nothing, but
he began to walk up and down slowly, with folded arms, along the edge of
the shadow before Lady Fan as she stood still, following him with her
eyes.

"You did not mean a word of what you said that afternoon? Not one word?"
She spoke very slowly and distinctly.

He was silent still, pacing up and down before her. Suddenly, without a
word, she turned from him and walked quickly away, towards the hotel. He
started and stood still, looking after her--then he also made a step.

"Fan!" he called, in a tone she could hear, but she went on. "Mrs.
Crosby!" he called again.

She stopped, turned, and waited. It was clear that Lady Fan was a
nickname, Clare thought.

"Well?" she asked.

Clare clasped her hands together in her excitement, watching and
listening, and holding her breath.

"Don't go like that!" exclaimed Brook, going forward and holding out one
hand.

"Do you want me?" asked the lady in white, very gently, almost
tenderly. Clare did not understand how any woman could have so little
pride, but she pitied the little lady from her heart.

Brook went on till he came up with Lady Fan, who did not make a step to
meet him. But just as he reached her she put out her hand to take his.
Clare thought he was relenting, but she was mistaken. His voice came
back to her clear and distinct, and it had a very gentle ring in it.

"Fan, dear," he said, "we have been very fond of each other in our
careless way. But we have not loved each other. We may have thought that
we did, for a moment, now and then. I shall always be fond of you, just
in that way. I'll do anything for you. But I won't marry you, if you get
a divorce. It would be utter folly. If I ever said I would, in so many
words--well, I'm ashamed of it. You'll forgive me some day. One says
things--sometimes--that one means for a minute, and then, afterwards,
one doesn't mean them. But I mean what I am saying now."

He dr