“Haven't YOU changed a little? Are you as sure as you were then—as sure of your feeling toward me?”
She gazed at him, wide-eyed. “WHAT do you mean?”
“I mean ARE you sure? It has seemed to me that perhaps—I was out of your life for a long time, you know, and during a good deal of that time it seemed certain that I had gone forever. I am not blaming you, goodness knows, but—Madeline, isn't there—Well, if I hadn't come back, mightn't there have been some one—else?”
She turned pale.
“What do—” she stammered, inarticulate. “Why, why—”
“It was Captain Blanchard, wasn't it?”
The color came back to her cheeks with a rush. She blushed furiously and sprang to her feet.
“How—how can you say such things!” she cried. “What do you mean? How DARE you say Captain Blanchard took advantage of—How—how DARE you say I was not loyal to you? It is not true. It is not true. I was. I am. There hasn't been a word—a word between us since—since the news came that you were—I told him—I said—And he has been splendid! Splendid! And now you say—Oh, what AM I saying? What SHALL I do?”
She collapsed once more among the cushions. He leaned forward.
“My dear girl—” he began, but she broke in.