She was leaning against the door. Her lips twitched with an emotion which was no longer one of distress.
"What are you afraid of?" she said.
He hesitated. "Your—good name," he answered.
She lifted her hands and dropped them, and for a moment he thought something terrible was going to happen, for her eyes closed sharply, and in her pale face her opened mouth was like a blot.
"Oh!" she cried. "Oh! oh! oh!" She laughed weakly, uncontrollably. She dropped into a chair, while the tears rolled down her cheeks and her body was shaken with her mirth.
He stared at her stonily and turned away to look into the fire. The sound of her laughter shocked him, for it had entirely gone beyond her keeping, but gradually it grew quieter and he thought he heard in it the break of sobs. He looked at her. She was leaning her head on her hand and crying softly, but as he turned she smiled and began to shake again.
"Why don't you laugh, too?" she said. "You are so funny."
"I can see nothing to laugh at. Go to bed at once. You are overwrought."
"I am in the best of health," she said. "Oh dear, I wish I could stop laughing! But I'll go to bed."
"And you'll talk to me in the morning?"