“Yes,” Lizzie assented slowly, “I hate you.”
“But you must answer me. You see, it isn’t for me alone ... it’s not a question of our hating, in a way... it concerns others....”
“Yes?”
“But it’s cowardly of me to put it so, because it concerns me too. You don’t know—”
“Maybe I do.”
“But if you did—” Honoria broke off and then plunged forward desperately. “That child of yours—his father—alone here—by ourselves.... Think before you refuse!”
Lizzie set down the candle and eyed her.
“And you,” she answered at length, dragging out each word— “you can come here and ask me that question?”
For a moment silence fell between them, and each could hear the other’s breathing. Then Honoria drew herself up and faced her honestly, casting out both hands.
“Yes; I had to.”