fying her common-sense with gay inconsequences, when he
looked up straight into her eyes.

"I have distressed you. I should not have spoken as I did."

"No, you should not----"

"Have I offended you?"

"I--don't know."

Matters were running too swiftly for her; she strove to remain
cool, collected, but confusion was steadily threatening her, and
neither resentment nor indifference appeared as allies.

"Mrs. Paige, can you account for--that night? The moment I touched
you----"

She half rose, sank back into her seat, her startled eyes meeting
his.

"I--don't know what you mean."

"Yes--you know."

Flushed, voices unsteady, they no longer recognised themselves.

"You have never seen me but once," she said. "You cannot
believe----"

"I have not known a moment's peace since I first saw you."

She caught her breath. "It is your business worries that torment
you----"

"It is desire to be near you."

"I don't think you had better say such a thing----"

"I know I had better not. But it is said, and it is true. I'm not
trying to explain it to you or to myself. It's just true. There
has not been one moment, since I saw you, which has been free from
memory of you----"

"Please----"

"I scarcely know what I am saying--but it's true!" He checked
himself. "I'm losing my head now, which isn't like me!" He choked
and stood up; she could not move; every nerve in her had become
tense with emotions so bewildering that mind and body remained
fettered.

He was walking to and fro, silent and white under his self-control.
She, seated, gazed at him as though stunned, but every pulse was
riotously unsteady.

"I suppose you think me crazy," he said hoarsely, "but I've not
known a moment's peace of mind since that night--not one! I
_couldn't_ keep away any longer. I can't even hold my tongue now,
though I suppose it's ruining me every time I move it. It's a
crazy thing to come here and say what I'm saying."

He went over and sat down again, and bent his dark gaze on the
floor. Then:

"Can you forgive what I have done to you?"

She tried to answer, and only made a sign of faint assent. She no
longer comprehended herself or the emotions menacing her. A
curious tranquillity quieted her at moments--intervals in which she
seemed to sit apart watching the development of another woman,
listening to her own speech, patient with her own silences. There
was a droop to her shoulders now; his own were saggi