She turned to him with a tear-stained face. “It hasn’t only done that.”
“Oh, no! I know.... There’ve been moments...” He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “They’ll be with me as long as I live. But I can’t see you paying such a price for them. I’m not worth what I’m costing you.”
She continued to gaze at him through tear-dilated eyes; and suddenly she flung out the question: “Wasn’t it the Athénée you took her to that evening?”
“Anna—Anna!”
“Yes; I want to know now: to know everything. Perhaps that will make me forget. I ought to have made you tell me before. Wherever we go, I imagine you’ve been there with her.... I see you together. I want to know how it began, where you went, why you left her.... I can’t go on in this darkness any longer!”
She did not know what had prompted her passionate outburst, but already she felt lighter, freer, as if at last the evil spell were broken. “I want to know everything,” she repeated. “It’s the only way to make me forget.”
After she had ceased speaking Darrow remained where he was, his arms folded, his eyes lowered, immovable. She waited, her gaze on his face.
“Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“No.” The blood rushed to her temples. “You won’t? Why not?”
“If I did, do you suppose you’d forget that?”