"Yet humour me, my friend; I wish to know."
To me her eyes seemed passionately curious, and I marvelled at her mood. But I answered gravely.
"I neither despise nor fear him, Marion. When in the press of time he calls for me, I shall bow to the inevitable with what dignity I can."
"I think you are a brave man, Agar," she replied. "You must be indeed, yet it is a thing that puzzles me."
"Why?" I questioned with a smile.
"Because a brave man should be honest too, and you are not."
"You are remembering the deceit I practised on Sir William Dagmar?"
"Yes; and other happenings."
"What else?"
"I am remembering the night my lover died!" She bent a little forward as she spoke, and her eyes burned into mine. I caught my breath, and I felt my hand gripped as with a hand.