Ellison's face became suddenly pale. He shifted on his seat uneasily.
"Yes, I remember. What about it?"
"I was lonely that evening and went for a walk. I strolled down to Alligator Point and sat on the rocks above the water."
"Well?"
"The sea was as calm as a mill-pond, and the night was so still that I could almost hear people talking across the strait. I saw you leave the township, and I watched you sail towards where I sat. Your voices were plainly audible to me, and, forgive me, Ellison, but—I heard——"
"Say no more—I know what you heard, you cursed, eavesdropping spy—I know what you heard!"
"You are hardly just to me, but under the circumstances I will forgive your harshness. And what did I hear?"
"You heard the wretched story I told the woman I loved!"
"I did. And—ever since—that moment—I have known your secret."
There was complete silence between them for some minutes—Murkard went on tracing circles on the blotting-paper as if his life depended on it, while Ellison rose from his seat and went over to the door. His hand trembled so that he could hardly control its movements. Murkard looked at him with a queer expression, half sympathy, half contempt upon his face. Suddenly Ellison wheeled round and confronted him.