The color rushed to her face. The memory of that night was still bitter and unforgettable. Her first impulse was to refuse to tell him. Then suddenly she changed her mind.
Why should she spare Chris, or try any longer to defend him when he was undefendable?
"You said that you would tell me some day," Feathers reminded her.
"I know." But it was some minutes before she told him.
"I was sitting in the lounge that night after dinner, and heard you telling someone that Chris had only married me for my money."
The driving-wheel jerked furiously beneath Feathers' hand, and for an instant the car swerved dangerously. Then he jammed the brakes home and brought it to a standstill at the roadside.
They were in the country now, with hedge-topped banks on either side, and it was all so still and silent that they might have been the only two in the world.
Feathers half-turned in his seat. His face was white and horrified, and for a moment he stared at her, his lips twitching as if he were trying to speak and could find no words.
Marie looked at him with misty eyes, and, seeing the pain and shame in his face, laid her hand gently on his arm.
146 "Please don't look like that. It hurt at first, but afterwards I was glad that I knew—really glad!"