I to understand that you hate me, that nothing can wipe it out--no
repentance and no remorse? You never gave me a chance for a word of
explanation or excuse. You refused to see me. You returned my letter
unopened. But had you asked her--the woman--the whole truth"--

"If it could make any difference, I will ask her to-morrow."

He did not understand. He thought she was speaking ironically.

"You are harder than you know," he said heavily. "But I will speak. It is
for the last time. Will you hear me?"

"I do not wish to, but I will not go."

"I had met her five years before there was anything between you and me.
She accepted the situation when she understood that I would not marry her.
The child was born. Time went on. I loved you. I told her. She agreed to
go away to England: I gave her money. The day you found us together was
to have been the last that I should see of her. The luck was against me.
It always has been in things that I cared for. You sent a man to kill
me"--

"No, no. I did not send any one. I might have killed you--or her--had I
been anything more than a child, but I sent no one. You believe that, do
you not?"

For the first time since they had begun to speak she showed a little
excitement, but immediately was cold and reserved again.

"I have always believed you," he said again. "The man who is your husband