Still she made him no denial, and her silence maddened him, and drove him on with his bitter arraignment.
What your object has been I fail to see, but you cannot deny that you have laid yourself out, have used every effort, every art and wile, of which you are mistress, to make me believe in you. And I—I—like a blind, deluded fool—ah, Yuki—there is something wrong, some hideous mistake somewhere. You have some secret, some trouble. Be frank with me. Cant you see—understand how I—I am suffering?
She roused herself with an effort, but her words were pitifully conventional. She apologized for the trouble and noise she had brought into his house.
You have not answered me! he cried. What was your intention? Did you intend to leave me? You shall answer me that!
It was bedder so, she said, and her voice fainted. She could speak no further.
Then such was your intention! He could hardly believe her words.
