"Never," said he with a quiet certainty.
She rose with a restless sigh and walked to the fireplace.
"I couldn't," he went on. "I'm not fit for it; that's the end of the matter. Use your own term of abuse. I shall hear plenty of them."
"I don't want to abuse you," she said. She walked quickly over to him, gave him her hand for a moment, and then returned to her place. "But it makes me feel rather strange to you." She looked full at him with a plain distress in her eyes, and her voice shook a little. "I'm coming to feel more strange towards you," she went on. "I thought we had got nearer at Ashwood, we did for the moment. But now I'm farther off again."
"I would have you always very near," he said in low tones, his eyes saying more than his lips.
"I know. And perhaps you've had thoughts——" She paused before she added, "Alexander's quite set on his course, nothing will stop him—except the thing that I expect to stop him. You know what I mean?"
Marchmont nodded again.
"And he's doing it a good deal because of me. I wonder if you understand that?"
"I don't know that I do."
"No; he knows more of me than you do."