facts they knew. He was as
surprised, as distressed, as they.

'But what is the explanation of it all?' he asked.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders wearily.

'She cared for Haddo more than she cared for me, I suppose. It is
natural enough that she should go away in this fashion rather than offer
explanations. I suppose she wanted to save herself a scene she thought
might be rather painful.'

'When did you see her last?'

'We spent yesterday evening together.'

'And did she not show in any way that she contemplated such a step?'

Arthur shook his head.

'You had no quarrel?'

'We've never quarrelled. She was in the best of spirits. I've never seen
her more gay. She talked the whole time of our house in London, and of
the places we must visit when we were married.'

Another contraction of pain passed over his face as he remembered that
she had been more affectionate than she had ever been before. The fire
of her kisses still burnt upon his lips. He had spent a night of almost
sleepless ecstasy because he had been certain for the first time that the
passion which consumed him burnt in her heart too. Words were dragged out
of him against his will.

'Oh, I'm sure she loved me.'

Meanwhile Susie's eyes were fixed on Haddo's cruel telegram. She seemed
to hear his mocking laughter.

'Margaret loathed Oliver Haddo with a hatred that was almost unnatural.
It was a physical repulsion like that which people sometimes have for
certain animals. What can have happened to change it into so great a love
that it has made her capable of such villainous acts?'

'We mustn't be unfair to him,' said Arthur. 'He put our backs up, and we
were probably unjust. He has done some very remarkable things in his day,
and he's no fool. It's possible that some people wouldn't mind the
eccentricities which irritated us. He's certainly of very good family and
he's rich. In many ways it's an excellent match for Margaret.'

He was trying with all his might to find excuses for her. It would not
make her treachery so intolerable if he could persuade himself that Haddo
had qualities which might explain her infatuation. But as his enemy stood
before his fancy, monstrously obese, vulgar, and overbearing, a shudder
passed through him. The thought of Margaret in that man's arms tortured
him as though his flesh were torn with iron hooks.

'Perhaps it's not true. Perhaps she'll return,' he cried.

'Would you take her back if she came to you?' aske