"And would you?"
"Yes I would—now. Mr. Hannay spared me all he could. He didn't tell me that if you had died at Scarby it would have been my fault. But it would have been."
He groaned.
"Darling—you couldn't say that if you knew anything about it."
"I know all about it."
He shook his head.
"Listen, Walter. You've been unfaithful to me—once, years after I gave you cause. I've been unfaithful to you ever since I married you. And your unfaithfulness was nothing to mine. A woman once told me that. She said you'd only broken one of your marriage vows, and I had broken all of them, except one. It was true."
"Who said that to you?"
"Never mind who. It needed saying. It was true. I sinned against the light. I knew what you were. You were good and you loved me. You were unhappy through loving me, and I shut my eyes to it. I've done more harm to you than that poor girl—Maggie. You would never have gone to her if I hadn't driven you. You loved me."
"Yes, I loved you."