"I want you to keep that promise of yours in its fullest sense to-night, Muriel," he said, and his soft voice had in it almost a caressing note. "I want you—if you will—to tell me what is the matter."
Muriel stood before him with her face upturned. He could not read her expression, but he knew by her attitude that she had no thought of repelling him.
"What is it?" he urged gently. "Won't you tell me?"
"Don't you know?" she asked him slowly.
"I only know that what we heard this afternoon upset you," he answered. "And I don't understand it. I am asking you to explain."
"You will only think me very foolish and absurd."
There was a deep quiver in the words, and he knew that she was trembling. Very kindly he laid his hand upon her shoulder.
"Can't you trust me better than that?" he asked.
She did not answer him. Her breathing became suddenly sharp and irregular, and he realised that she was battling for self-control.
"I don't know if I can make you understand," she said at last. "But I will try."