"Yes," she answered, after a moment.
Coningsby turned slowly and looked into the fire.
"And how did he persuade you?" he asked. "Did he tell you I was going blind?"
"No!" There was apprehension as well as surprise in her voice; and he jerked his head up as though listening to it.
"Ah, well!" he said. "It doesn't much matter. There is a remedy for all this world's evils. No doubt I shall take it sooner or later. So you're going again are you? I'm not to touch you; not to kiss your hand? You won't have me as husband, slave, or dog! Egad!" He laughed out harshly. "I used not to be so humble. If you were queen, I was king, and I made you know it. There! Go! You have done what you came to do, and more also. Go quickly, before I see your face again! I'm only mortal still, and there are some things that mortals can't endure—even strong men—even giants. So—good-bye!"
He stopped abruptly. He was gripping the high mantelpiece with both hands. Every bone of them stood out distinctly, and the veins shone purple in the lamplight. His head was bowed forward upon his chest. He was fighting fiercely with that demon of unfettered violence to which he had yielded such complete allegiance all his life.
Minutes passed. He dared not turn his head to look but he knew that she had not gone. He waited dumbly, still forcing back the evil impulse that tore at his heart. But the tension became at last intolerable, and slowly, still gripping himself with all his waning strength, he stood up and turned.
She was standing close to him. The repugnance had all gone out of her face. It held only the tenderness of a great compassion.
As he stared at her dumbfounded, she held out her hands to him.
"Geoffrey," she said, "if you wish it, I will come back to you."