She strained back, so that she might see his face. "Heinz!—what is it?" And then, with a sudden gasp of comprehension:
"Oh, if that's all!—I will never see Maurice Guest again."
"That's not it."
"What is it then?"
"Will you listen quietly?"
"Yes, yes." She ceased to draw back, let herself be held. But he felt her trembling.
He whispered a few words in her ear. Almost simultaneously she jerked her head away, and, turning a dark red, stared incredulously at him. Then she sprang to her feet.
"Oh, what a fool I am! To believe, for one instant, there was a human spot in you I could get at!—Take your hands away—take them off me! Because I've had no one to speak to for so long: because I know YOU could understand if you would—Oh, when a woman is down, anyone may hit her."
"Gently, gently!—You're too good for such phrases."
"I'm no different from other women. It's only you—with your horrible thoughts of me. YOU! Why, you're no more to me than the floor I stand on."