"'Twill be a wrench."
"Yes, indeed."
"But not such a bad one as his death?"
"That's true."
He probed her.
"Never to see him come down your path with his bustling gait; never to hear the laughter of the man. You held his hand when he went out of life. He loved you—'twas the master passion of him."
A flush of colour leapt and spread over her face. She gasped but said nothing.
"A cruel thing that he left you as he did."
"What was I?" she began, alert and ready to fight at once and crush this suspicion. "What are you saying? We were nothing——"
He held up his hand.