“You are an admirable actress,” he said. “But your art is thrown away. I was in the fernery and saw you and Norman together. I saw all—the whole shameful scene.”
Her breath came fast, the color mounted to her brow and dyed her neck. A light, a fierce light, began to gather in her eyes. She was beginning to understand; slowly, very slowly at first; for, in her innocence, it seemed so incredible that Trafford—Trafford, of all men!—should for one single instant believe her capable of such vileness as his words implied. She opened her lips to laugh, but he went on before the laugh came.
“Do not speak, do not attempt to deny your guilt. Words can be of no avail between us. You can not say anything in extenuation of the wrong you have done me which my heart has not already pleaded for you. You, too, have been wronged.”
She started slightly, and her face went white. He was confessing his love for Ada! Her heart hardened to adamant at that moment, and she thought no more of laughter.
“I am justly punished,” he went on; “I accept my punishment. You thought I did not love you; I know with what bitterness against me your heart was filled—it is only natural that you should love him, that your heart should turn to the man who loved you before we met.”
“I love Norman!” she said, more to herself than to him. The denial implied by her words roused his anger again.
“You can not deny it,” he said, between his teeth. “I have seen you together! Do you think I have forgotten your manner when I brought him to you, thinking you were strangers? And if I wanted clearer proof of the vile truth, I have it here.”
He held out the letter. She recognized it in a moment. The blood surged to her face, her lips moved, she was on the point of crying out: “It is true he loves me, but I never loved him; I have never spoken a word of love to him in all my life. It was of Lilias we were talking; it was for Lilias—the kiss.” Then the recollection of Lady Ada flashed upon her; he had confessed that he loved her. Her pride rose like a tide and swept away all softer emotions.
This man she loved had married her for her money while loving another woman, and now dared to deem her guilty of the worst crime of which a woman and a wife can be capable. Well, let him think her so! She would not utter one word of denial, she would scorn to do so.