"You mean to say," he began, in a softer tone, "that you rejected this man because you had given your promise to me?"
"Yes."
"You sent him away?"
"Yes."
"And he knew the reason? Did he know that you loved him, Elizabeth?"
The answer was given reluctantly, after a long pause. "I do not know. I am afraid—he did."
Percival drew a short, impatient breath. "You must forgive me if I was violent just now, Elizabeth. This is very hard to bear."
"I dare not ask your pardon," she murmured, with her face still between her hands.
"Oh, my pardon? That will do you little good," he said, contemptuously. "The question is—what is to be done? I suppose this man—this lover of yours—is within call, as it were, Elizabeth? You could summon him with your little finger? If I released you from this engagement to me, you could whistle him back to you next day?"
"Oh, no," she said, looking up at him wonderingly. "He is gone away from England. I do not know where he is."