"You look as if you were afraid of him."
"Afraid of him?" she broke out. "Yes, I am afraid of him."
"Of Loring?" he exclaimed in sheer wonder. "Why, in heaven's name? Loring's not——"
He was going to say "your husband," but stopped himself.
"I can't face him," she whispered. "Oh, you know! Why do you torment me? Or don't you know? Oh, how strange you are!"
And now there was fear in her eyes when she looked at Ruston.
He sat still a moment, and then in slow tones he said,
"I don't see what concern your affairs are of Loring's, or mine either, by God!"
At the last word his voice rose a little, and his lips shut tight as it left them.
"Oh, it's easy for you," she said, half in anger at him, half in scorn of herself. "You don't know what he is—what he was—to me."