resistance. "I
say--what's the matter? What's troubling you?"

He had never held her so before. Always till that moment she had
maintained a delicate reserve in his presence, a barrier which he had
never managed to overcome. He had even wondered sometimes if she were
afraid of him. But now in her hour of weakness she suffered him, albeit
under protest.

"Oh, go away!" she whispered. "Please--you must!"

But Wentworth had no thought of yielding his advantage. He pressed her to
him.

"Violet, I say! You're miserable! I knew you were the first moment I saw
you. And I can't stand it. You must let me help. Don't anyhow try to keep
me outside!"

"You can't help," she murmured, with her face averted. "At least--only by
going away."

But he held her still. "That's rot, you know. I'm not going. What is it?
Tell me! Is he a brute to you?"

She made a more determined effort to disengage herself. "Whatever he is,
I've got to put up with him. So it's no good talking about it."

"Oh, but look here!" protested Wentworth. "You and I are such old
friends. I used to think you cared for me a little. Violet, I say, what
induced you to marry that outsider?"

She was silent, not looking at him.

"You were always so proud," he went on. "I never thought in the old days
that you would capitulate to a bounder like that. Why, you might have had
that Bohemian prince if you'd wanted him."

"I didn't want him!" She spoke with sudden vehemence, as if stung into
speech. "I'm not the sort of snob-woman who barters herself for a title!"

"No?" said Wentworth, looking at her curiously. "But what did you barter
yourself for, I wonder?"

She flinched, and dropped back into silence.

"Won't you tell me?" he said.

"No." She spoke almost under her breath. He relinquished the matter with
the air of a man who has gained his point. "Do you know," he said, in a
different tone, "if it hadn't been for that fiendish trial, I'd have been
in the same race with Field, and I believe I'd have made better running,
too?"

"Ah!" she said.

It was almost a gasp of pain. He stopped deliberately and looked into her
face.

"Violet!" he said.

She trembled at his tone and thrust out a protesting hand. "Ah, what is
the use?" she cried. "Do you--do you want to break my heart?"

Her voice failed. For the first time her eyes met his fully.

There followed an interval of overwhelming stillness in which neither of
them drew a breath. Then, with an odd so