cheon time. And yet he thought that he had
never seen her more beautiful. Something in her face had altered. He
could not tell what it was for he was not a man of much experience as
regarded her sex. Yet, in a vague sort of way, he understood the
change. A certain part of the almost insolent quietness, the complete
self-assurance of her manner, had gone. She was a little more like an
ordinary woman!

"Lady Ruth proved herself an excellent tactician last night," she
remarked. "She has given me an exceedingly uncomfortable few hours. For
you, well for you it was a respite, wasn't it?"

"I don't know that I should call it exactly that," he answered
thoughtfully.

She looked at him steadfastly, almost wistfully.

"Well," she said, "I am not going to make excuses for myself. But the
things which one says naturally enough when the emotions provoke them
sound crude enough in cold blood and colder daylight. We women are
creatures of mood, you know. I was feeling a little lonely and a little
tired last night, and the music stole away my common sense."

"I understand," he murmured. "All that you said shall be forgotten."

"Then you do not understand," she answered, smiling at him. "What I said
I do not wish to be forgotten. Only--just at that moment, it sounded
natural enough--and today--I think that I am a little ashamed."

He rose from his seat. Her eyes leaped up to his expectantly, and the
color streamed into her cheeks. But he only stood by her side. He did
nothing to meet the half-proffered embrace.

"Dear Lady Emily," he said, "all the kind things that you said were
spoken to a stranger. You did not know me. I did not mean anyone to know
me. It is you who have commanded the truth. You must have it. I am not
the person I seem to be. I am not the person to whom words such as yours
should have been spoken. Even my name is an assumed one. I should prefer
to leave it at that--if you are content."

"I am not content," she answered quietly; "I must hear more."

He bowed.

"I am a man," he said, "who spent ten years in prison, the ten best
years of my life. A woman sent me there--a woman swore my liberty away
to save her reputation. I was never of a forgiving disposition, I was
never an amiably disposed person. I want you to understand this. Any of
the ordinary good qualities with which the average man may be endowed,
and which I may have possessed, are as dead in me as hell fire could
burn them. You have spoken of me