There was a tragic silence.
"Why not?" Chris asked again hoarsely.
Her lips trembled, but she answered quite gently: "Because I would rather stay here—with Aunt Madge."
She saw the hot blood leap to his face, and quite suddenly he broke out in blind passion.
"With Feathers, you mean! Speak the truth and admit it! You want to stay here with him and knock about with him, as you did when I was in Scotland I I'm not such a blind fool as you think! It's Feathers who has changed you so! Do you think I can't see the difference in you when you're with him and when you're with me? Do you think other people can't see it, too? You heard what that woman, Mrs. Heriot, said at lunch to-day . . ."
Marie's lip curled contemptuously, though her heart was racing and she was as white as a ghost.
"Mrs. Heriot!" she echoed disdainfully.
205 "And everyone else, too!" he raved on. "It's got to stop, I tell you. You're coming away with me to-morrow. Do you think I want my wife talked about by a lot of scandalmongering women? . . ." He broke off breathlessly, but Marie neither spoke nor raised her eyes, and the coldness of her averted face cut him to the heart. He caught her by the shoulders roughly.
"You used to love me, Marie Celeste," he said brokenly.
"Did I?" The brown eyes met his now. "You never loved me," she said, very quietly.