"'Tis not wicked in you, child. You do not play for money."
"Oh, did you?"
"Yes, child."
"Then that was horrid of you," she agreed.
He stood silent, fighting the longing to tell her the truth.
"But—but—do not look so solemn, sir," the pleading voice went on. "I am sure you must have had a very strong excuse?"
"None."
"And now you are letting it spoil your life?" she asked reproachfully.
"It does not wait for my permission," he answered bitterly.
"Ah, but what a pity! Must one moment's indiscretion interfere with all else in life? That is ridiculous. You have—what is the word?—expiated! yes, that is it—expiated it, I know."