. "What's the good of talking about
forgiveness?" he said unemotionally. "The thing's done. I was not
the only person who saw you."

"Your sister?"

"Yes; she pointed you out first."

"I might have guessed that!" Sally exclaimed bitterly.

"Why?"

"Because she hates me. She knew it 'ud make you angry if you saw me
there."

"Oh, that's nonsense! Why should she hate you?"

"Why, because she wants you for that other girl. And you do care for
her now, don't you--don't you?"

Traill turned away with annoyance. "We'll leave that matter alone,"
he said. "I haven't the slightest intention of discussing it.
To-morrow morning I shall see about letting my rooms. According to
the terms of the settlement I drew out last night, you retain
these--rent free--to the expiration of the lease. That's three years.
But you mayn't sub-let."

Sub-let! He could talk about sub-letting! The irony of it dragged
a laugh through her lips.

"Do you think I shall want to sub-let?" she said stridently. "Do you
think I shall care what I do, where I live, how I live?"

"You'll be a fool if you don't," he remarked.

The hysterical note in her voice had jarred through him. Once before
in his life he had had a woman screaming about his ears. There was
no desire in his mind to relish the enjoyment of it again. He turned
slowly towards the door. This was the worst of women. A man's
relations with them were bound to end something after this fashion.
In common with most men, he shared a hatred of that termination of
all intimacies which one calls a scene.

But, really, he had no cause for apprehension. The tears now were
streaming down her face, sobs were choking her, convulsive
shudderings that shook her body in a merciless grip. Her spirit was
utterly broken. No worse could happen to her now. But through all
her misery, she could still think first of him. That tentative
drawing away, the hand stretching out for the door, she knew the
meaning of that; she saw that he had had enough--enough of her weeping,
enough of her despair. Just as when, watching the fight, she had
struggled against her weakness lest it should spoil his pleasure,
so now she fought down the hysteria of her mind to give him ease.
Very wearily she crossed the room and stood beside him, forcing back
tears with lips that were trembling and contorted. It was no show
of bravado, no spurious bravery, aping self-respect, taking it well,
as the phrase has it. She was not brave. Sh