'But nothing desperate?' she said.
'No; you have saved me.'
'I would knock at death's doors again, and pass them, to be sure of that.'
'Kiss me; you may be sure. I would not put my lips to your cheek if there were danger of my faltering.'
'But you love him.'
'I do: and because I love him I will not let him be fettered to me.'
'You will see him.'
'Do not imagine that his persuasions undermined your Tony. I am subject to panics.'
'Was it your husband?'
'I had a visit from Lady Wathin. She knows him. She came as peacemaker. She managed to hint at his authority. Then came a letter from him—of supplication, interpenetrated with the hint: a suffused atmosphere. Upon that; unexpected by me, my—let me call him so once, forgive me!—lover came. Oh! he loves me, or did then. Percy! He had been told that I should be claimed. I felt myself the creature I am—a wreck of marriage. But I fancied I could serve him:—I saw golden. My vanity was the chief traitor. Cowardice of course played a part. In few things that we do, where self is concerned, will cowardice not be found. And the hallucination colours it to seem a lovely heroism. That was the second time Mr. Redworth arrived. I am always at crossways, and he rescues me; on this occasion unknowingly.'