"He did tell me," she said after a pause, "he told me everything, one night, nearly three weeks ago, just before your brother died. He suddenly came to Shovelstrode—very late, after we had all gone upstairs. He wanted to see me—and I came down ... oh, I shall never forget it! He was standing there, all white and tired—and very wet, as if he'd been lying in the grass. He tried to speak, but he couldn't—and I was frightened, like a silly ass, and I cried ... and then he told me all about himself—and this girl."
"And you?..."
She shuddered.
"I—I told him he must go."
"You told him to go!"—his voice had a hungry catch in it.
"Yes—I was a beast."
Anxiety and scorn strove together in him.
"But you changed your mind."
She nodded.
"Tony!"