This was a new phase in her nature, the more distressing to me, that, knowing little of women, I did not understand her. She saw the effect of her outburst, and melted immediately.
"This is a bad return for your generosity," she cried. "Ascribe it to my weakness and the dread I feel lest he——"
"The guilty man," I interposed, "is not a subject for sympathy. But he whom you love is not the guilty man," I bravely assured her. "Take my word and my hope for that. A man who could win your regard has no such black spot in his breast."
And, bowing over her hand, I escaped before she could propound any of the many questions my declared purpose was likely to call up.