“Rosalie, dearest, tell me all!” he persisted.
“I shall never—I have been—oh—you will never forgive me!” she said brokenly. “I knew it wasn’t true, but I couldn’t help it. I saw her—the woman—come from your house, and—”
“Hush! For God’s sake, hush!” he broke in almost harshly. Then a better understanding came upon him, and it made him gentle with her.
“Ah, Rosalie, you did not think! But—but it was natural you should wish to see me....”
“But, as soon as I saw you, I knew that—that—” She broke down again and wept.
“I will tell you about her, Rosalie—” His fingers stroked her hair, and, bending over her, his face was near her hands.
“No, no, tell me nothing—oh, if you tell me!—”
“She came to hear from me what she ought to have heard from the Notary. She has had great trouble—the man—her child—and I have helped her, told her—” His face was so near now that his breath was on her hair. She suddenly raised her head and clasped his face in her hands.
“I knew—oh, I knew, I knew...!” she wept, and her eyes drank his.
“Rosalie, my life!” he cried, clasping her in his arms.