“I know all,” she said.
“Not all.”
“She has left me—with that man; she has written to me.”
“Not all,” he repeated.
“Is there more? There cannot be worse.”
“There is better. She is safe.”
“Safe? Do you mean that she did not go?”
Her eyes, with their sudden leap of light, burned him.
“No; she did go. But I followed them; I brought her back.”
“Back to me? She was frightened at what she had done?” she again asked, her eyes still burning, but more dimly, upon him. His eyes dropped before them; looking down at the wasted hands he held, he said: