"I don't know what it is," she said piteously, "but
Ailsa—something dreadful has angered her against me——"
"Against you!"
"Oh, yes. I don't know all of it; I know—partly."
Sleep and fatigue still confused her mind; she pressed both frail hands to her eyes, her forehead:
"It was the day I returned from seeing you at Paigecourt. . . . I was deadly tired when the ambulance drove into Azalea; and when it arrived here I had fallen asleep. . . . I woke up when it stopped. Ailsa was sitting here—in this same chair, I think—and I remember as I sat up in the ambulance that an officer was just leaving her—Captain Hallam."
She looked piteously at Berkley.
"He was one of the men I have avoided. Do you understand?"
"No. . . . Was he——"
"Yes, he often came to the—Canterbury. He had never spoken to me there, but Ione Carew knew him; and I was certain he would recognise me. . . . I thought I had succeeded in avoiding him, but he must have seen me when I was not conscious of his presence—he must have recognised me."
She looked down at her worn shoes; the tears fell silently; she smoothed her gray gown for lack of employment for her restless hands.