A deep flush swept into her cheeks, to vanish as quickly.
"You had reason to think so, and I was," earnestly. "I was deceived in your character, and trusted you implicitly. It seems as though I am destined to be the constant victim of deceit. I can keep faith in no one. It is hard to understand you, Lieutenant Galesworth. How do you dare to come here and face me, after all that has occurred?"
She was so serious, so absolutely truthful, that for the moment I could only stare at her.
"You mean after what you said to me last night? But I am not here to speak of love."
"No," bitterly. "That is all over with, forgotten. In the light of what has happened since, the very memory is an insult. Oh, you hurt me so! Cannot you see how this interview pains me! Won't you go--go now, and leave me in peace."
"But surely you will not drive me away unheard!--not refuse to learn the truth."
"The truth! It is the truth I already know, the truth which hurts."
"Nevertheless you are going to hear my story. If I have done a wrong to you, or any one, I want it pointed out, so it may be made right. I shall not leave this room, nor your presence, until I have uttered my last word of explanation. I should be a coward to turn away. Will you sit down and listen? You need not even speak until I am done."
She looked at me helplessly, her eyes full of questioning, yet, when I extended a hand, she drew back quickly.
"Yes--I--I suppose I must."