“Mine!”
He inclined his head with a terrible calmness.
“Yes; she discovered that I married her for her money.”
Lady Wyndover trembled.
“When?” she demanded in a whisper.
“The day of the wedding,” he said. He turned his head away from her gaze. “She—charged me with it on our wedding-night, and—and separated herself from me.”
Lady Wyndover covered her face with her hands, and groaned.
“And—and you? What—what did you say? Surely you, a man—could influence her, could—”
He shook his head dully.
“No. You know her as well as I do. All I could say was of no avail. The poison had entered her mind, her heart: it was hardened against me!”