She bowed her head. He stood silent for a moment, and she cried,
"It was only gossip—a woman's gossip; I did wrong to listen to it."
"Gossip," he said, "is often true. This is true," and he set his lips.
The worst often finds or makes people calm. She had flushed at first, but the colour went again, and she said quietly,
"If you have time and don't mind, I should like to hear it all."
She had forgotten what this request must mean to him, or perhaps she thought the time for pre
tence had gone by. If so, he understood, for he answered,
"It's your right."
Her eyes sank to the ground, but she did not quarrel with his words. She stood motionless while he told his story. He spoke with wilful brevity and dryness.
"I was a young man when I met her. She was married, and I went to the house. Her husband——"