"I knew it," said Chairo.
"But did you guess why?" asked Neaera, very low.
Chairo did not answer, but looked inquiry.
"Then you shall never know," continued Neaera.
This was the psychological moment of the interview. She had intended, had Chairo given her the least encouragement, to throw herself into his arms and confess to him that she had never loved any man but him, that so great was her love for him that she was prepared now to face the investigating committee, tell the whole story, and telling the story by so much exonerate him. She had expected that if there was a spark of affection in Chairo's heart for her, his chivalrousness would be roused by this offer, and he would share her fortunes rather than permit her sacrifice to assure his.
But the possibility of this imagined scene had been dissipated by that little unconscious movement of Chairo's away from her. Then, too, she knew that Lydia was in the next room, and she almost regretted now that she was there, for if Lydia had not been there she might have risked the venture. But that Lydia should witness a humiliating rejection was a risk she could not take. So she had spoken very low and rapidly in the hope that although Lydia might not hear any specific word that would hurt, she might gather a general impression that would sufficiently torment her. She little knew how completely she was, to this extent at any rate, succeeding.
"My dear Neaera," answered Chairo, "you are a very charming and complicated person and I do not pretend to guess why you chose to thwart my plans. But you have done me a great wrong in many ways. Should you decide now to repair them—in so far as this is possible—you will be behaving in a manner which, though proper, would hardly be consistent." He smiled a little as he said this; Neaera wished he would not speak so loud, and was even betrayed into a gesture which he interpreted as a gesture of protest, but was really an instinctive effort to induce him to lower his voice.
"You are very cruel to me," said Neaera, and she lowered her eyelids so that her long, black lashes swept her cheek.
"And you are a charming little comédienne," laughed Chairo, "and you ought to have devoted yourself to the stage."
"The world's my stage," she said, raising her eyes with a flash of indignation. "And there is upon it every kind of character. But while I have made a fool of many I have always respected you, and this is how you pay me for it!"