He leaned to her and took her hand. "Oh, why did you go and complicate matters by getting married?" he said. "It was such an obvious—such a fatal—mistake. You knew I cared for you, didn't you?"
"You—had never told me so," she said, her voice very low.
"Never told you! I tried to tell you every time we met. But you were always so aloof, so frigid. On my soul, I was afraid to speak. Tell me now!" His hand was fast about hers. "When did you begin to care?"
She sat unyielding in his hold. "I—imagined I cared—a very long time ago," she said, with an effort.
"What! Before that trial business?" he said. "I wish to Heaven I'd known!"
"Why?" she said.
"Because if I'd known I wouldn't have been such a fool," he said with abrupt vehemence. "I would never have run that infernal risk."
"What risk?" she said.
He laughed, a half-shamed laugh. "Oh, I didn't quite mean to let that out. Consider it unsaid! Only a man without ties is apt to risk more than a man who has more to lose. I've had the most fantastic ill-luck this year that ever fell any man's lot before."
"At least you were vindicated," Violet said.