Some strange feeling compels him to put a fresh question for her, though he knows what the answer will be.
"My mother?"
"This is unworthy of you," says Marian slowly. "No; I meant Tita!"
CHAPTER XXIII.
HOW MARIAN FIGHTS FOR MASTERY; AND HOW THE BATTLE GOES; AND HOW CHANCE BEFRIENDS THE ENEMY.
"Tita! You wrong her!" says he. "Why speak of her? You should not; you always disliked her."
"True." She is silent for a moment, looking down into the silent garden. Then she lifts her head, and gazes straight at him. "You know why I disliked her. You must! You—you only. Some instinct from the very first warned me against her. I knew. I knew she would rob me of all that life had left me. I knew"—with a quick, long sob—"she would take you from me!"
Rylton, who has been leaning on the railings beside her, raises himself, and stands staring at her, a terrible anguish in his eyes.
"Marian—think," says he hoarsely.
"Oh, why did you marry her?" cries she, smiting her hands together as if half distracted. "There was always so much time—time!"