“David Courtlaw!” she repeated. “What has he to do with it?”
“He was your sister’s master—her friend. A few days ago I saw him leave your house. He was like a man beside himself. He began to tell me something—and stopped. I am going to ask him to finish it.”
She rose up.
“I forbid it!” she said firmly.
They were standing face to face now upon the hearthrug. She was very pale, and there was a look of fear in her eyes.
“I will tell you as much as this,” she continued. “There is a secret. I admit it. Set yourself to find it out, if you will—but if you do, never dare to call yourself my friend again.”
“It is for your good—your good only I am thinking,” he declared.
“Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered.
He was silent. He felt his heart beat faster and faster—his self-restraint slipping away. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. A quick flush stained her cheeks. She put out her hands to avoid his embrace.
“No!” she exclaimed. “You must not. It is impossible.”