"I did."
He pushed back his chair; half rose; sat down again; poured out a glass of Marsala; drank it thirstily; and looked at her a second or two in helpless distress before finding words.
"And you talk of honorable motives!"
"My motive was entirely honorable. I went to explain to him that I couldn't see him any more—just now."
"While you were about it you might as well have said neither just now—nor at any other time."
She was silent.
"Do you hear?"
"Yes; I bear, father."
"And you understand?"
"I understand what you mean."