said, with a sinking heart.

He uttered a scoffing sound too bitter to be called a laugh. "Do I
know you? Have I ever been as near to you as this devil who has
made himself notorious with Kaffir women for as long as he has been
out here?"

She flinched momentarily from the stark cruelty of his words. But
she faced him still, faced him though every instinct of her
womanhood shrank with a dread unspeakable.

"You know me," she said again. "You may not know me very well, but
you know me well enough for that."

It was bravely spoken, but as she ceased to speak she felt her
strength begin to fail her. Her throat worked spasmodically,
convulsively, and a terrible tremor went through her. She saw him
as through a haze that blotted out all beside.

There fell a silence between them--a dreadful, interminable silence
that seemed to stretch into eternities. And through it very
strangely she heard the wild beating of her own heart, like the
hoofs of a galloping horse, that seemed to die away. . . .

She did not know whether she fell, or whether he lifted her, but
when the blinding mist cleared away again, she was lying in the
wicker-chair by the window, and he was walking up and down the room
with the ceaseless motion of a prowling animal. She sat up slowly
and looked at him. She was shivering all over, as if stricken with
cold.

At her movement he came and stood before her, but he did not speak.
He seemed to be watching her. Or was he waiting for something?

She could not tell; neither, as he stood there, could she look up
at him to see. Only, after a moment, she leaned forward. She
found and held his hand.

"Burke!" she said.

His fingers closed as if they would crush her own. He did not
utter a word.

She waited for a space, gathering her strength. Then, speaking
almost under her breath, she went on. "I have--something to say to
you. Please will you listen--till I have finished?"

"Go on!" he said.

Her head was bent. She went on tremulously. "You are quite
right--when you say--that you don't know me--that I have given you
no reason--no good reason--to believe in me. I have taken--a great
deal from you. And I have given--nothing in return. I see that
now. That is why you distrust me. I--have only myself to thank."

She paused a moment, but he waited in absolute silence, neither
helping nor hindering.

With a painful effort she continued. "People make
mistaken--sometimes--without kno