She stretched out her hands as if to catch him back. “Chris—no, stay! You can’t! You can’t! You know you can’t!”
He stood leaning against the chimney-piece, his arms crossed, his head a little bent and thrust forward, in the attitude of sullen obstinacy that she knew so well. And all at once in her own cry she heard the echo of other cries, other entreaties. She saw herself in another scene, stretching her arms to him in the same desperate entreaty, with the same sense of her inability to move him, even to reach him. Her tears overflowed and ran down.
“You don’t mean you’ll tell her?” she whispered.
He kept his dogged attitude. “I’ve got to clear myself—somehow.”
“Oh, don’t tell her, don’t tell her! Chris, don’t tell her!”
As the cry died on her lips she understood that, in uttering it, she had at last cast herself completely on his mercy. For it was not impossible that, if other means failed, he would risk justifying himself to Anne by revealing the truth. There were times when he was reckless enough to risk anything. And if Kate were right in her conjecture—if he had the audacity he affected—then his hold over her was complete, and he knew it. If any one else told Anne, the girl’s horror would turn her from him at once. But what if he himself told her? All this flashed on Kate Clephane in the same glare of enlightenment.
There was a long silence. She had sunk into a chair and hidden her face in her hands. Presently, through the enveloping cloud of her misery, she felt his nearness, and a touch on her shoulder.
“Kate—won’t you try to understand; to listen quietly?”
She lifted her eyes and met his fugitively. They had lost their harshness, and were almost frightened. “I was angry when I came here—a man would be,” he continued. “But what’s to be gained by our talking to each other in this way? You were awfully kind to me in old times; I haven’t forgotten. But is that a reason for being so hard on me now? I didn’t bring this situation on myself—you’re my witness that I didn’t. But here it is; it’s a fact; we’ve got to face it.”
She lowered her eyes and voice to whisper painfully: “To face Anne’s love for you?”