“Ah, but I knew which you would choose. Oh, Maurice, don’t look at me like that! I killed Constantine. Was I to kill you too?” It was the first time she had mentioned the child’s death since she had broken the news of it to him, and he realised the intense feeling which had forced the words from her lips, and left her standing like a culprit before him, supporting herself by the table. He strove for calmness.
“No, I suppose it could hardly be expected of you,” he said.
“Maurice!” she flung herself at his feet, “don’t look at me in that way! What is the good of talking quietly when your eyes are killing me? Say what you like—curse me; I deserve it.”
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, get up!” he groaned impatiently. “I don’t want to be hard on you, Eirene. Don’t talk nonsense about cursing. But really, life is not so excessively delightful that one cares to think one has bought it at the price of honour.”
Eirene rose and stood before him. “You have your remedy,” she said, very quietly. “Put the whole blame on me. Deny your signature. Send me away—only forgive me first. I will never utter a word of complaint, and I will always pray for you.”
“You forget that I did sign the thing, after all. Do you want me to cover one baseness with another? No, we will go home quietly, and drop out of sight.”
“There is no need for your future to be ruined. I will go—as you cannot bear to see me. Zoe will take care of you—and Graham Wylie.” Her voice trembled, but she fought down the rising tears. “You trust them; they have not deceived you. You will have your work, and I shall have my punishment. Perhaps when I am dying——”
“Nonsense!” cried Maurice, driven to exasperation. “There is no need for heroic measures. If you will think a moment, you will see it is impossible for me to stay here after this. Our Emathians are brave, at any rate. Well, Scythia spreads a whisper that I saved my life by a disgraceful compact with a Scythian agent. What influence should I have after that? I could not deny it, and you may be quite certain that I shan’t.”
“Maurice,” said Zoe’s diffident voice at the door, “Admiral Essiter and his flag-lieutenant are here. Shall I say you are really too tired to see them?”
“No!” cried Eirene, waking suddenly into fiery energy. “Bring the Admiral in here, in here—at once, Zoe. Maurice, I forbid you to say a word! Leave this to me.”