"Don't!" she cried; "don't—you shame me—let me go."
"God knows I am all unworthy, Charmian, and so low in my abasement that to touch you is presumption, but oh, woman whom I have loved from the first, and shall, to the end, have you stooped in your infinite mercy, to lift me from these depths—is it a new life you offer me—was it for this you came to-night?"
"Let me go—oh, Peter!—let me go."
"Why—why did you come?"
"Loose me!"
"Why did you come?"
"To meet—Sir Maurice Vibart."
"To meet Sir Maurice?" I repeated dully—"Sir Maurice?" And in that moment she broke from me, and stood with her head thrown back, and her eyes very bright, as though defying me. But I remained where I was, my arms hanging.
"He was to meet me here—at nine o'clock."
"Oh, Charmian," I whispered, "are all women so cruel as you, I wonder?" And, turning my back upon her, I leaned above the mantel, staring down at the long-dead ashes on the hearth.