"Tell me?" he begged.
Once more he saw that little quiver pass through her frame. Her lips were parted and closed again. Maraton was puzzled, but did his best to follow her line of thought.
"The only way to treat such a person," he continued, "is to treat him as a lunatic. That is what he really is. I scarcely heard what he said; already I have forgotten every word."
"But I can't! I never can!"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"My dear Julia," he protested, "I appeal to your common sense!"
She looked at him almost angrily. Her foot beat upon the floor.
"What has common sense to do with it!" she exclaimed. "Of course, it was a foolish thing to say. He didn't even believe it—I am sure of that. It was simply mad, insensate jealousy; a vicious attempt to make me suffer. That isn't where he hurt. It was because—shall I tell you?"
A sudden instinct warned him. He held out his hand.
"It will only distress you. No, I don't want to hear."