She did not glance at him now, but he looked at her, boldly and insistently.
"What do you mean?" He put the inquiry authoritatively.
She turned still farther away. "Do you require everything to be explained?" she asked, in a voice just audible.
He hesitated. Then he answered, "I beg your pardon. I require nothing."
She seemed to be waiting that she might have herself more under control. At last she said, "I deserve that you should speak in that way to me."
Lawrence thrust his hands into the pockets of his loose coat. He could shut them fast there and no one would see them.
"Deserve?" he repeated. "I don't understand."
"Yes, you must understand."
The words were spoken softly and tremulously; but the head was still averted. Prudence now went on hurriedly, as if she could not speak fast enough, and as if she were saying something that had long been in her mind to be spoken.
"It must be right to tell you how I've suffered for my—my mistake—I could almost call it crime—of two years ago. I—I—oh, I have suffered!"