"There is much that you do not know—cannot know."
"I know enough to make me very happy," I repeated. "Almost ever since I saw you first I have felt a great burden upon my heart. Now it is gone."
"You believed I was guilty of—of——" here she stammered, and seemed at a loss how to finish her sentence, but I noticed the bitterness of her voice.
"No," I interrupted eagerly. "Never for one moment."
I thought her eyes grew softer, for I could not help looking at her as I spoke.
"Why then have you been made happy?"
"Because I know you are not the wife of that man."
The blood mounted to her cheeks, and the moment I saw this I turned away my head.
"You have been very good to try and help me," she said, "but it does not avail, it will not avail."
"I have done nothing," I replied, "nothing to what I would do if I could."