Norman's eyes were on her with a strange inquiring look in them.
"How did you hear?" he asked.
"Mr. Keith--he came to me and told me."
"I wish he had not done it. I mean, I did not want you troubled. You were not to blame. You were deceived."
"Oh, don't say that! I shall never cease to thank him. He tore the veil away, and I saw what a heartless, vain, silly fool I have been." Norman put his hand on her soothingly. "But I have never forgotten that I was your wife, nor ceased to love you," she went on vehemently.
"I believe it."
"I have come to confess everything to you--all my folly--all my extravagance--my insane folly. But what I said just now is true: I have never forgotten that I was your wife."
Norman, with his arm supporting her, reassured her with comforting words, and, sustained by his confidence, she told him of her folly in trusting Ferdy Wickersham: of her giving him her money--of everything.
"Can you forgive me?" she asked after her shamefaced recital.
"I will never think of that again," said Norman, "and if I do, it will be with gratitude that they have played their part in doing away with the one great sorrow of my life and bringing back the happiness of my youth, the one great blessing that life holds for me."