Cleland was thunderstruck.
"I was only seventeen," she said calmly. "I was on the stage at the time."
"Good Lord!" he murmured, astounded.
"He never spoke of it to you?"
"Never! I never dreamed——"
"I did. I dreamed." She shrugged her shoulders again, lightly. "But—I awoke very soon. My dream had ended."
"What on earth was the matter?"
"I am afraid you had better ask him," she replied gravely.
"I beg your pardon; I shouldn't have asked that question at all!"
"I didn't mind.... It is my tragedy—still. But let a man interpret it to men. A woman would not be understood."