oral, a
liar, anything you like. Do you mean to say you would give him up at
once without insisting on knowing from me my exact reasons for branding
him as unfit for your company? Of course you wouldn't. And not only you!
No one would do such a thing who had any courage or any will in them."

She lifted the letter.

"In this letter you say that Mr. Arabian is unfit to be the companion of
any decent woman, that he is a blackguard in the full acceptance of the
word, that he is beyond the pale, and finally, that he ought to be in
prison. Very well! I don't say for a moment that I doubt your word,
but I do ask you to justify it. Of course I know that you easily
can. Otherwise I am sure that you would never have written such awful
accusations against anyone. It would be too wicked, and I know you are
not wicked. Please tell me your exact reason for writing this letter,
Adela."

"I can't."

"You really mean that?"

"I won't. It's impossible."

Miss Van Tuyn's face became very hard.

"Well, then, Adela--"

She paused. Suddenly there had come into her mind the thought of a
possible way of forcing the confidence which Lady Sellingworth refused
to give her. Should she take it? She hesitated. Arabian's will was upon
her even here in this quiet drawing-room. His large eyes seemed fixed
upon her. She still felt the long and soft touch of his lips clinging to
hers like the lips of a thirsty man. Would he wish her to take this way?
For a moment she felt afraid of him. But then her strong independence
of an American girl rose up to combat this imaginative, almost occult,
domination. Arabian himself, his fate perhaps, was concerned in this
matter. She could not, she would not allow even Arabian, whose will
imposed itself on hers, who had gathered her strangely, mysteriously,
into a grip which she felt almost like a thing palpable upon her, to
prevent her from finding out the truth which Lady Sellingworth
seemed resolved to keep from her. She still believed, indeed she felt
practically certain, that Lady Sellingworth and Arabian in the past
had been lovers. Her jealousy was furiously awake. She felt reckless of
consequences and ready to take any course which would bring to her what
she needed, full knowledge of what had led Adela Sellingworth to send
her that letter.

Lady Sellingworth was looking at her now steadily, with, she thought,
a sort of almost fierce pleading. But she cared very little for Adela's
feelings just the