He smiled.
"I have shown you my hand, my lady; I know yours. Will you tell me that I am wrong? Say the word—say that you are indifferent how matters go—and I will make my bow and leave you."
She stood and looked at him—she could not say the word. He had spoken the truth; she did love Lord Leycester with a passion that surprised her, with a passion that had not made itself known to her until to-night, when she had seen him take into his arms another woman—had heard his protestations of love for another woman, and seen him kiss another woman.
Wounded pride, self-love, passionate desire, all fought for mastery within her bosom, and the man who stood calmly before her knew it.
He read every thought of her heart as it was mirrored on the proud, beautiful face.
"I do not understand," she said. "You come to me a perfect stranger, and make these confessions."
He smiled.
"I come to you because you and I desire to accomplish one end—the separation of these two persons. I come to you because I have already found some means toward such an end, and I believe you are capable of devising and carrying out the remainder. Lady Lenore——"
"Do not utter my name," she said, looking round uneasily.