"So we have come to the Great Divide, have we?" he said. "I have, apparently, expected too much of you. I might have known it would be so. All women are alike. They desert a man when he needs them most. Their affection has no toughness of fibre. It snaps under the first severe strain. The prospect of sharing my shame is more than you can bear." Again he laughed. "Well, tonight shall be the end—tonight—now. Don't think I blame you. It is not your fault. I merely rated you too high, Marcia—believed you a bigger woman than you are, that's all. I have asked more than you were capable of giving. The mistake was mine—not yours."
He left her then.
Stunned by the torrent of his reproach, she stood motionless, watching while, without a backward glance, he passed into the hall and up the stairs. His receding footsteps grew fainter.
Even after he was out of sight, she remained immovable, her frightened eyes riveted on the doorway through which he had disappeared.
Prince Hal raised his head and sensing all was not well came uneasily to her side and, thrusting his nose into her inert hand, whined.
At his touch, something within her gave way. She swayed, caught at a chair and shrank into it, her body shaking and her breath coming in gasping, hysterical sobs.
The clock ticked on, the surf broke in muffled undertone, the light faded; the candles burned lower, flickered and overflowed the old pewter candle sticks; and still she sat there, her tearless, dilated eyes fixed straight before her and the setter crouching unnoticed at her feet.