"I can't, I can't!" the wretched man exclaimed, spreading out his arms on the desk. "Perhaps in a few months—but I doubt. I can do nothing now; I am helpless; I am not my own master. O God, if I could but go and leave it all behind me!"
Maud could only guess at the meaning of this. He had already hinted to her of business troubles which were crushing him. But this was a matter of no moment in her sight. There was something more terrible, and she could not force her tongue to speak of it.
"You fear for her?" Paul went on. "You have noticed her strangeness?" He lowered his voice. "What can I do, Maud?"
"You are so much away," she said hurriedly, laying her hand on his arm. "Her visitors—she has so many temptations—"
"Temptations?"
"Father, help her against herself!"
"My help is vain. There is a curse on her life, and on mine. I can only stand by and wait for the worst."
She could not speak. It was her duty, clearly her imperative duty, yet she durst not fulfil it. She had come down from her room with the fixed purpose, attained after nights of sleepless struggle, of telling him what she had seen. She found herself alone again, the task unfulfilled. And she knew that she could not face him again.