't
vibrate a note. She looked at me as she spoke, looked me straight in the
eyes, and I think it was then that I began to realise what an ass I had
been making of myself.

"How do I make it hard?" I asked. My voice was curiously low, almost
husky in fact. I rather think she noticed it and took heart therefrom. A
man is very easy to handle when he is not quite sure of himself.

"I've got to pretend," she said in answer to my question. "Pretend that
you are nothing to me when----"

She stopped short. It seemed almost as if she regretted that she had
said so much.

"Go on," I urged.

"There's not much to say," she continued. "I just want to tell you, to
tell you in such a way that you'll believe me, that if I've treated you
shamefully I've suffered for it. I can't make any reparation for it; you
were quite right in saying that it is too late now to alter things. I
just want you to know that I'm sorry. I can't say much more than that,
though I don't want to take any credit for it now, seeing that it's been
practically forced out of me."

I remembered the way she had been standing when I came in, the tears in
her eyes, and the way she had backed out of my reach the moment I put my
hands on her shoulders. It would have been so easy for her to have done
the other thing, but she hadn't, and I admired her all the more for it.
She might easily have captured me in the first flush of emotion, but she
had instead given me time to think and a chance to get away if I wanted
to. There was something in her attitude that appealed to my sense of
fair play and at the same time prevented me from in any way
misinterpreting her last remark.

"Moira," I said, "were you crying when I came in just now?"

Her lip trembled a little as she asked, "Why do you want to know?"

"Because," I said slowly, "I've solved one riddle already to-night, and
I've a mind to solve another before I go to bed."

"I was crying," she admitted, "only I didn't mean you to see."

"And why was that?"

"I thought you might imagine I was just doing it."

I knew what she meant; there was no need for her to explain further. She
didn't want to influence me in any way; whatever I did must be done of
my own free will.

"I'm beginning to understand," I said slowly.

"Then you'll forgive?" she said quickly, and one hand went up to her
throat as if she were choking.

I nodded and impulsively she held out her hand to me. I did not take it,
and she half-turned so