His lips twisted cynically. "That is curious," he said.
She winced again from that which he left unsaid. "Oh, Max, don't hurt me!" she pleaded. "Try—try to understand!"
It was an appeal for mercy. But Max would not hear. He took her by the shoulders, compelling her to face him. "So you really mean to marry Noel," he said. "Do you think you will be happy with him?"
"I could never be happy if I didn't," she answered rather incoherently.
Max frowned. "Look here!" he said. "It's no good expecting me to understand if you won't even answer my questions."
She quivered in his hold. "You ask such—impossible things," she said.
"They are only impossible," Max said relentlessly, "because you are afraid to tell me the truth. You are afraid to tell me that you are sacrificing yourself. You are afraid to be honest—even with yourself."
"I am not!" she protested fierily. "Max, you have no right——"
"I have a right." He broke in upon her sternly. "I have the first and foremost right. Remember, you were mine before you were his. You gave yourself to me because you loved me. You only threw me over because of a fancied unworthiness. Now I am cleared of that, do you think you owe me nothing more than an apology?"
"Oh, but, Max," she pleaded, "think of Noel! Think of Noel!"