"My dear Baron," she went on, "I'm very glad you've done this for Mr. Ruston."
He sank down on his pillows with a weary sigh.
"Let him alone, let him alone," he moaned. "You thought yourself strong."
"I suppose you mean kindly," she said, speaking very coldly. "Indeed, that you should think of me at all just now shows it. But, Baron, you are disquieting yourself without cause."
"I'm an old man, and a sick man," he pleaded, "and you, my dear——"
"Ah, suppose I have been—whatever you like—indiscreet? Well——?"
She paused, for he made a feebly impatient gesture. Mrs. Dennison kept silence for a moment; then in a low tone she said,
"Baron, why do you speak to a woman about such things, unless you want her to lie to you?"
The Baron, after a moment, gave his answer, that was no answer.
"He is gone," he said.