"What! You've sold Jessie!"
Julian stood up. This last fact struck right home to him, banishing all his vagueness, setting his mind on its feet firmly.
"Jessie sold!" he exclaimed again, in a loud voice. "Cuckoo, why have you done this? Tell me—tell me at once."
She strove to control her sobs.
"I didn't know what to do to get you away from him," she said presently, flushing scarlet. "I didn't never see you; I didn't know where you was. I knew as you didn't like me going on the street. Once you asked me not to. Remember?"
Julian nodded, with a piercing gaze on her.
"So—so thinks I—I'll keep away; p'rhaps it'll get him back."
"Me?"
He sat down with a white face. All about him there was flame. He seemed to understand what he had never understood before, the wonder of the lady of the feathers, the mystery that had drawn him so strangely to her. He caught her in his arms.
"Oh, Cuckoo, Cuckoo," he said, brokenly. "You love me."