Violet sat motionless for the space of several minutes, and Tony felt the throbbing of his heart as he watched her. Then she said very slowly, “I cannot see my duty—and so it would be presumption to show you yours, but I am not the person you have wronged most grievously.”
“No. You mean Bernard Appleby? Well, it would be almost too much to expect you to believe in me again; but I can, at least, show you I am sorry for what I have done—and if I brought him back—”
The girl slowly shook her head. “I can make no promise now,” she said.
“Still, you would wish me to make it right with him?” and Tony stood still looking at her with a faint gleam of hope in his eyes.
“Not because I wish it, Tony. Can’t you realize that you must make him reparation?”
Tony slowly straightened himself, but his face was quietly resolute. “Yes,” he said. “I wonder if Miss Harding will tell me where he is? I am going to Cuba. Of course, it can never give me back your esteem. That I threw away—but perhaps as the days go by you will not think of me so bitterly. You will try? That is all I can ask for in the meanwhile.”
Violet rose, outwardly very calm and cold, though her heart was throbbing painfully. There was something in the man’s face she had never seen there before, and though he spoke very quietly the little thrill in his voice was not without its effect on her.
“I think Miss Harding is here now,” she said. “She asked if she might come, and I fancied I heard her voice a little while ago, but I do not know if she will tell you. I am glad you are going, Tony.”
Tony looked down on her gravely, with a curious wistfulness in his eyes, and then, before she quite grasped his intentions, laid his hands on her shoulders and kissed her cheeks.
“My only excuse is that I may never see you again,” he said. “If Miss Harding will not tell me I will find him myself. I leave for London to-morrow, and go straight to Havana. I will not come back to England unless Bernard Appleby comes with me.”