ded against me. You're acting quite within your privilege when you
discard old friends. You'll wonder why I state obvious facts. I'm doing
so in order that you may feel certain that I've withdrawn whatever
claims I had for influencing your movements. I shall always be
interested---- But as for presuming that anything that I might say or do
would make the least difference to your plans, I shouldn't be so
foolish----"

Breaking away from Lady Dawn, she crossed over to him. Resting her hand
on his arm, she sank her voice and commenced speaking so hurriedly that
he alone could make out what she said.

"I've been false and foolish. I don't need you to tell me. If you knew
how miserable I've been and how I've despised myself---- But I can't
help it. I go on doing things. I never used to be a beast--least of all
to you; never until you wanted me to marry you. If I can act like this
now, what sort of a wife---- Can't you understand? I'm trying to spare
you. But I won't have you hate me, Tabs. I can't endure that. Every
second that I've kept away from you, I've been wanting--not the _you_
that you are now, but the old you. Won't you start afresh, liking me the
way you did when--before this happened?" She seized his hand on the
impulse and pressed it to her lips. It was the humble act of a small
girl. "Love me just a little. I'm not really bad. Please, please forgive
me my wickedness, dear Tabs."

He stood dumbfounded and embarrassed. If they had been alone, he would
have known what to do. He was at a loss to find a motive for this
display of passion. Was it a ruse to get him back? He crushed the
suspicion as unworthy. Then was it what she had seen that had made her
possessive? Her tears fell scalding on his hands.

He drew her to him. "There, there, little Terry! You mustn't. There's
nothing to cry about. There's nothing wicked in not having loved a man.
It's a thing that can't be helped."

At the sign of his relenting, she threw away the last of her control.
Burying her face against his coat, she clung to him. All that he could
see of her was her golden head and her slight body, quivering with
sobbing. Her voice reached him muffled. "But I am wicked. I've pushed
you from me. If you knew---- If you did, you wouldn't touch me."

There had been no sound, yet something warned him. He looked up. The
door was closing.

"Lady Dawn," he called. In his voice there was the tremor of anxiety.

On the point of vanishing, she glanc