Elizabeth got up.
"I am here, Edith," she said.
"I want to speak to you alone," she said. "Nobody else must hear."
She had turned her eyes to the girl as she bent over her, and waited, looking at her with a fixed, anxious expression, till the others had gone into the dressing-room adjoining.
"We are alone?" she asked. "Then tell me. Did you love him?"
Elizabeth bent lower over her and kissed her.
"Yes, dear Edith," she said. "I always loved him."
"Then—then you must get him to forgive me. Perhaps he will forgive me? Do you think he will?"
Elizabeth took hold of the white, wet hand that lay outside the coverlet.
"Oh, my dear!" she said.