"Nothing? You send this creature money, or were going to send it, it's the same thing, from here, your wife's house. You—you cad, Hector!"
A flame of anger appeared for a second in the man's eyes, his face grew white, but he mastered himself, and answered quietly enough:
"I was not going to send it, Lucy; that cheque was written six weeks ago. I forgot to date it, as I usually do my letters or cheques. The money was refused."
"Forgot? Refused? That sort of woman refuse money? You expect me to believe a wild, improbable tale like that. Oh, but I understand, though you think any lie is good enough for a poor trusting fool of a wife to believe. And it was, Hector, but—but not now."
"Wait, I've not finished. It's true that cheque was refused, but I insisted, and wrote another the same night, did not forget the date, and this time it ... was accepted."
"And you tell this to me, you stand there and own your vileness?"
"Yes, for I wish to tell you the truth, Lucy."
"Spare yourself the trouble. I don't believe you."
"As you please then, I don't care. Five minutes ago I did, but now——" He stopped suddenly and, turning away, stood with his back towards her, and then, the devil fought under, tried once more: "Lucy, won't you hear me, if not for my sake, then for ... Ruby's? I did lie to you that first night, or rather I let you believe what was not true, but my nerves were all to pieces, and I couldn't think or speak. I'll tell you the whole story now. It was for that I came out here."
"Yes, now that you're found out and caught."