"
She moved suddenly, and he saw her face. "John," she said,
unsteadily, "you--I--I have known you to lie to me--about
other things."
With a hasty movement he averted his head. The doubt, the
appeal in her words shocked him. The whole isolation of her
life seemed summed up in the one short sentence. For the
instant he forgot Chilcote. With a reaction of feeling he
turned to her again.
"Look at me!" he said, brusquely.
She raised her eyes.
"Do you believe I'm speaking the truth?"
She searched his eyes intently, the doubt and hesitancy still
struggling in her face.
"But the last three weeks?" she said, reluctantly. "How can
you ask me to believe?"
He had expected this, and he met it steadily enough;
nevertheless his courage faltered. To deceive this woman,
even to justify himself, had in the last halfhour become
something sacrilegious.
"The last three weeks must be buried," he said, hurriedly.
"No man could free himself suddenly from--from a vice." He
broke off abruptly. He hated Chilcote; he hated himself.
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