She gave a little gasp:
"The rumour is true," she said.
He reeled to his feet; she sat looking up at him, white, silent hands twisted on her lap.
"Now you know," she managed to say. "Why don't you go? If you've any self-respect, you'll go. I've told you what I am; do you want me to speak more plainly?"
"Yes," he said between his teeth.
"Very well; what do you wish to know?"
"Only one thing.... Do you—care for him?"
She sat, minute after minute, head bent, thinking, thinking. He never moved a muscle; and at last she lifted her head.
"No," she said.
"Could you care for—me?"