"No—oh, not exactly."
"Ah, you see, you can't deny it! There is another woman in your life. I know it! I felt it!"
"No—no! I love you!" cried Cyril.
He hardly knew what he was saying; the words seemed to have leaped to his lips.
She regarded him for a second in silence evidently only partially convinced.
Cyril felt horribly guilty. He had momentarily forgotten his wife, and although he tried to convince himself that he had spoken the truth and that it was not she who was keeping them apart, yet he had to acknowledge that if he had been free, he would certainly have behaved very differently towards Anita. So in a sense he had lied to her and as he realised this, his eyes sank before hers. She did not fail to note his embarrassment and pressed her point inexorably.
"Swear that there is no other woman who has a claim on you and I will believe you."
He could not lie to her in cold blood. Yet to tell her the truth was also out of the question, he said to himself.
While he still hesitated, she continued more vehemently.
"I don't ask you to tell me anything of your past or my past, if you had rather not do so. One thing, however, I must and will know—who is this woman and what are her pretensions?"