She got up restlessly and faced him.
He thought of that time when they had faced each other before—in the shabby, glaring little room—and his face hardened.
"When you——" she began; "I thought it was for you—I had heard you say——"
"Are you going back five years?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Then would you mind not?" he said. "There can be no good in it, and to me at least it is not a pleasant subject."
"I must!" she burst out. "Oh! cannot you help me? It is so hard!"
She held out her hands pathetically.
A deep colour came into his tanned face, and he stood still, looking at her strangely.
"I think I will go," he said; "there is no use in prolonging this."