“Terror-stricken! I cannot understand how you managed to restrain yourself for so long. You saw him shortly after we left the station, you said?”
“Yes, I think I must have cried out, but, of course, you could not hear me on account of the cheers.”
“Ah, those cheers! A triumph—a triumphal progress! A joyful welcome home—that ruffian’s smile.... You could not have made a mistake. I don’t suggest so obvious a way out of this trouble. You saw him.”
“I saw him.”
“And yet you were strong enough to bear yourself as if nothing had happened! No woman alive except yourself could have done that, Priscilla. And then—then you were strong enough to tell me all there was to be told. Another woman—any other woman—would have tried to keep it secret, would have paid the fellow his blackmail until his demands became too monstrous, and then—what might happen? Heaven only knows. But you were straight. You did the right thing. You told me—you trusted me.”
“Whom should I trust if not you, my husband?”
He took the hand that she stretched out to him. He kissed it over and over again. But this was not enough for him; he took her into his arms and put his face down to hers.
“You knew that I was not a fool,” he said. “What should I be without you?... And what is to come out of it, Priscilla? Can you see what is to come out of it all?”
“Everything that we think—the worst—the very worst is to come of it,” she said. “I see quite clearly all that is before us—well, perhaps not all, but enough—oh, quite enough for one man and one woman to bear. Oh, Jack, if you were only a little less true, all might be easy. But you would not let me leave you even if I wished.”
“Take that for granted,” said he. “But what is to come of it all? There would be no use buying him off, though I’ve no doubt that that’s what he looks for. The infernal scoundrel! There’s nothing to be bought off. If he were to clear off to-morrow matters would only be the more complicated.”