“Because women need them,” beamed Uncle Benjamin.
Valancy was looking anything but beautiful when she entered the parlour. Her white night had played fearful havoc with her face. She wore an ugly old brown-and-blue gingham, having left all her pretty dresses in the Blue Castle. But Barney dashed across the room and caught her in his arms.
“Valancy, darling—oh, you darling little idiot! Whatever possessed you to run away like that? When I came home last night and found your letter I went quite mad. It was twelve o’clock—I knew it was too late to come here then. I walked the floor all night. Then this morning Dad came—I couldn’t get away till now. Valancy, whatever got into you? Divorce, forsooth! Don’t you know——”
“I know you only married me out of pity,” said Valancy, brushing him away feebly. “I know you don’t love me—I know——”
“You’ve been lying awake at three o’clock too long,” said Barney, shaking her. “That’s all that’s the matter with you. Love you! Oh, don’t I love you! My girl, when I saw that train coming down on you I knew whether I loved you or not!”
“Oh, I was afraid you would try to make me think you cared,” cried Valancy passionately. “Don’t—don’t! I know. I know all about Ethel Traverse—your father told me everything. Oh, Barney, don’t torture me! I can never go back to you!”
Barney released her and looked at her for a moment. Something in her pallid, resolute face spoke more convincingly than words of her determination.
“Valancy,” he said quietly, “Father couldn’t have told you everything because he didn’t know it. Will you let me tell you—everything?”
“Yes,” said Valancy wearily. Oh, how dear he was! How she longed to throw herself into his arms! As he put her gently down in a chair, she could have kissed the slender, brown hands that touched her arms. She could not look up as he stood before her. She dared not meet his eyes. For his sake, she must be brave. She knew him—kind, unselfish. Of course he would pretend he did not want his freedom—she might have known he would pretend that, once the first shock of realisation was over. He was so sorry for her—he understood her terrible position. When had he ever failed to understand? But she would never accept his sacrifice. Never!
“You’ve seen Dad and you know I’m Bernard Redfern. And I suppose you’ve guessed that I’m John Foster—since you went into Bluebeard’s Chamber.”