Jane perceived that he had not done it. Had he, then, guessed all this time that Clare had, and been trying to shield her?
Then, slowly, his face, which had been frowning and tense, changed and broke up.
'Good God!' he said. 'Tell me the truth, Jane. It was you, wasn't it?'
Then Jane understood.
She said, 'You thought it was me…. And I thought it was you! Is it me you've been so ashamed of all this time then, not yourself?'
'Yes,' he said, still staring at her. 'Of course…. It wasn't you, then…. And you thought it was me?… But how could you think that, Jane? I'd have told; I wouldn't have been such a silly fool as to sneak away and say nothing. You might have known that. You must have had a pretty poor opinion of me, to think I'd do that…. Good lord, how you must have loathed me all this time!'
'No, I haven't. Have you loathed me, then?'
He said quickly, 'That's different,' but he didn't explain why.
After a moment he said, 'It was just an accident then, after all.'
'Yes … Clare was talking to him when he fell…. She's only just told about it, because you were being suspected. But I never know whether to believe Clare; she's such a gumph. I had to ask you…. What made you suspect me, by the way?'