“I not only think it possible, I have proved it,” she replied wearily.
He turned round and faced her.
“You did love me, Kathleen!” he asserted; “you never said so in words, but I know it,” he added fiercely.
“And——You mean that you don't now?”
Her voice was very tired. “Yes—I can't help it,” she answered, “it has gone—utterly.”
The grey sea slowly lapped the rocks. Overhead the sharp scream of a gull cut through the stillness. It was broken again, a moment afterwards, by a short hard laugh from the man.
“Don't!” she whispered, and laid a hand swiftly on his arm. “Do you think it isn't worse for me? I wish to God I did love you,” she cried passionately. “Perhaps it would make me forget that to all intents and purposes I am a murderess.”
Broomhurst met her wide despairing eyes with an amazement which yielded to sudden pitying comprehension.
“So that is it, my darling? You are worrying about that? You who were as loyal, as——”