"But the doctor said----"
"Never mind the doctor. I know. And Alie," a sob tore at his diaphragm, "it's my fault."
"Your fault?" Awfully, she guessed his meaning.
"Yes."
Her hand dropped from his arm, and they stared at one another in silence.
"Tell me," she said at last.
"No. Not now. Not yet." The remoteness of his eyes frightened her.
"I'd rather know," she pleaded; and again, "Why is it your fault? How can it be your fault?"
"I'd rather not tell you." Once more she caught that frightening remoteness in his eyes--in his very voice. Then, awfully, his reserve broke. "She knew all the time, Alie."
"Knew what?" There was no need for her question.