"No. Absolutely?"
"All right."
I lowered my voice to a whisper.
"There was a woman in his rooms last Wednesday, and she is the woman I am engaged to marry."
Her look of scorn was caused less by concern for my morals than by pity for my simplicity in thinking she would believe such a story.
"I don't believe it."
"You must. It's your last chance. If you let him go now, you'll lose him for ever, and I'm not going to let you blight your life and his, if I can stop it. You must make up your mind now. Do you believe me?"
Her expression of scorn had vanished and given place to one of painful perplexity.
"I'm not...."
"Do you believe me, Sylvia?"