“Listen!” she interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. “That’s not all.”
“You mean––”
She stopped him with a pressure on his arm.
“Once, not knowing, I almost consented,” she went on. “But something checked me––held me back. You remember how restless I was––how troubled. You would have laughed at me if I had told you. But something seemed to be calling me––a voice from a long distance. I laughed at myself for a foolish girl––at first. I said it was nerves, and I fought against it. And it was then that I came nearest to saying yes to you, thinking that I was indeed foolish in holding back. I liked you. I’ve always liked you, Robert. You’d been such a splendid friend, and I was grateful. I wanted to repay you––”
She stopped suddenly, and a flush mounted swiftly into her pale cheeks. Repay! The word recalled 180 sharply to her, acutely and painfully, all that Haig had said about paying her. Were they, then, in the same dreadful situation, she and Haig, with debts they could never pay? For the first time some sense of the terrible finality of his decision struck in upon her secret hopes.
“Don’t talk of that!” Robert was saying, seizing the moment of silence. “I never––”
“But always, when I was about to yield––I couldn’t. I didn’t know why then. But now I do.”
“You mean––Haig?” he asked hoarsely.
“Yes.”
“You don’t––” He could not bring himself to speak the word.