"It IS true."
"You have known—all the time?"
"From that night when I stood where we are standing now."
"And—and—SHE?"
"I had never seen her until that night. I saved her."
He dropped suddenly upon the trunk that stood behind him, and buried his face in his hands. For a long time she stood over him, her interest divided between him and the hall, wherein lay their present peril.
"Come," she said at last. "Pull yourself together. We must leave this place. If you are not careful, they will suspect something downstairs."
He looked up with haggard eyes, studying her face with curious intentness.
"What manner of woman are you, Sara?" he questioned, slowly, wonderingly.
"I have just discovered that I am very much like other women, after all," she said. "For awhile I thought I was different, that I was stronger than my sex. But I am just as weak, just as much to be pitied, just as much to be scorned as any one of my sisters. I have spoiled a great act by stooping to do a mean one. God will bear witness that my thoughts were noble at the outset; my heart was soft. But, come! There is much more to tell that cannot be told here. You shall know everything."