“What’s the matter, Carnac? You are in trouble. I can see it in your eyes—I feel it. Is it money?” she asked. She knew it was not, yet she could not help but ask. He shook his head in negation.
“Is it business?”
She knew his answer, yet she must make these steps before she said to him: “Is it a woman?”
He nodded now. She caught his eyes and held them with her own. All the silence and sorrow, all the remorse and regret of the past twenty-six years gathered in her face.
“Yes and no,” he answered with emotion. “You’ve quarrelled with Junia?”
“No,” he replied.
“Why don’t you marry her?” she urged. “We all would like it, even your father.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?” She leant forward with a slight burning of the cheek. “Why, Carnac?”
He had determined to keep his own secret, to hide the thing which had vexed his life, but a sudden feeling overcame his purpose. With impulse he drew out the letter he had received in John Grier’s office and handed it to her.