‘Perhaps we shall be glad afterwards,’ he said slowly. ‘The scandal would have killed my mother....’
Sheila winced. ‘Oh, Stephen, are you trying to make me hate you? Why did you say that?...’
‘Why——’
‘Why do you talk in that unreal way? Why do you pretend ... try at the last moment to blind me with false pious reasoning!’
‘But what I said about my mother——’
‘—Was false as water. You didn’t mean a word of it. You are too dreadfully sorry for yourself to care about your mother. You’re breaking faith, and because it hurts you you’re trying to feel good about it. God knows I haven’t disputed your decision—nor even blamed you for it. But now, please go!’
He rose. ‘I am not to come back?’
‘No, no. Go away.’
‘But, Sheila——’
‘Why will you torture me so?’ she cried. ‘It’s your own choice. If only you’d never come to-night—it would have been so much kinder.’