"I didn't dare to tell him," Stella pleaded, wringing her hands. "I didn't dare to lose him."
"You tricked him," Thresk repeated; and at the note of anger in his voice
Stella found herself again.
"You accuse and condemn me?" she asked quietly.
"Yes. A thousand times, yes," he exclaimed hotly, and she answered with another question winged on a note of irony:
"Because I tricked him? Or because I—married him?"
Thresk was silenced. He recognised the truth implied in the distinction, he turned to her with a smile.
"Yes," he answered. "You are right, Stella. It's because you married him."
He stood for a moment in thought. Then with a gesture of helplessness he picked up her cloak. She watched his action and as he came towards her she cried:
"But I'll tell him now, Henry." In a way she owed it to this man who cared for her so much, who was so prepared for sacrifice, if sacrifice could help. That morning on the downs was swept from her memory now. "Yes, I'll tell him now," she said eagerly. Since Henry Thresk set such store upon that confession, why so very likely would Dick, her husband, too.
But Thresk shook his head.