"Is it Holman Blake I am listening to," said she; "I do not recognize
my old friend in the cool and sarcastic man of the world now before
me."

"We often fail to recognize the work of our hands, madame, after it
has fallen from our grasp."

"What," she cried, "do you mean--would you say that--"

"I would say nothing," interrupted he calmly, stooping for the fan she
had dropped. "At an interview which is at once a meeting and a
parting, I would give utterance to nothing which would seem like
recrimination. I--"

"Wait," suddenly exclaimed she, reaching out her hand for her fan with
a gesture lofty as it was resolute. "You have spoken a word which
demands explanation; what have I ever done to you that you should
speak the word recrimination to me?"

"What? You shook my faith in womankind; you showed me that a woman who
had once told a man she loved him, could so far forget that love as
to marry one she could never respect, for the sake of titles and
jewels. You showed me--"

"Hold," said she again, this time without gesture or any movement,
save that of her lips grown pallid as marb!e[sic], "and what did you
show me?"

He started, colored profoundly, and for a moment stood before her