"He has, and I have, yes," he said, averting his eyes from the misery in her face. "Is it so hard and bitter a blow, Leslie?" he said after a pause.
"Yes," she responded almost unconsciously. "I hoped that—that——. But it does not matter. Nothing matters, now."
He fidgeted in his chair, and peered up at her curiously, strangely.
"Anyway, you know the truth now."
"Yes! I know the truth now," she echoed faintly. "Why," hoarsely, "why did he do it?"
The duke bit his lip.
"It was more my fault than his. I ought to have told you. I did not know—did not know that you would take it so much to heart. For God's sake don't look so wretched, so heartbroken," he burst forth. "Leslie, you make me feel like a criminal!"
She turned her white face to him.
"You let me—love him, go on loving him, knowing all the while——."
He hung his head and plucked at the edge of the shawl across his knees.