'But why?—what was it made her do such a thing?—go—for ever—without seeing you—without a word? She must have had some desperate reason.'
'She had none!' he said, with energy.
'But she must have thought she had. Can't—can't you explain it to me any more?'
He was almost at the end of his resistance.
'I told you—how she had resented—my concealment?'
'Yes—yes! But there must have been something more—something sudden—that maddened her?'
He was silent. She grew whiter than before.
'Mr. Fenwick—I—I have much to forgive. There is only one course of action—that can ever—make amends—and that is—an entire—an absolute frankness!'
Her terrible suspicion—her imperious will had conquered. Anything was better than to deny her, torture her—deceive her afresh.
He looked at her in a horrible indecision. Then, slowly, he put his hand within the breast of his coat.