"What is?" he repeated.
Sophy looked up at him and her nostrils spread a little.
"Have you really forgotten?" she said, in a clear voice. "You accused me of having a lover...."
"Oh, for God's sake!" cried Loring. His chest laboured with his strong excitement. "Haven't I told you I was damned sorry! Haven't I apologised—humbly? Haven't I explained I was out of my wits? Haven't I? Haven't I?"
He stood waiting for her to answer. All up in arms—white now—quite outraged by her unkind obstinacy.
She answered without apparent emotion:
"All that doesn't change what you said then. Of course you apologise—of course you say you were out of your wits. What else could you say? But—— Well, you see, Morris—it happens to be one of those facts that can't be wiped out by apologies and regrets. Some words can't be wiped out by other words," she ended, with a flash of bitterness.
He gazed at her sullenly.
"Can't you make allowances for a man's being mad with jealousy?" he said.
"No. Jealousy—of that kind—is always an insult."