ine, not yours--and I think you might show a little
sympathy."

"I'm too furious to feel sorry," replied Richard with gaunt
truthfulness, still marching up and down.

"Well, I do," said Mary with a spice of defiance. "In spite of
everything, I feel sorry that any one could so far forget himself as
Purdy did to-night."

"You'll be telling me next you have warmer feelings still for him!"
burst out Mahony. "Sorry for the crazy lunatic who, after all these
years, after all I've done for him and the trust I've put in him,
suddenly falls to making love to the woman who bears my name? Why, a
madhouse is the only place he's fit for."

"There you're unjust. And wrong, too. It ... it wasn't as sudden as you
think. Purdy has been queer in his behaviour for quite a long time now."

"What in Heaven's name do you mean by that?"

"I mean what I say," said Mary staunchly, though she turned a still
deeper red. "Oh, you might just as well be angry with yourself for
being so blind and stupid."

"Do you mean to tell me you were aware of something?" Mahony stopped
short in his perambulations and fixed her, open-mouthed.

"I couldn't help it.--Not that there was much to know, Richard. And I
thought of coming to you about it--indeed I did. I tried to, more than
once. But you were always so busy; I hadn't the heart to worry you. For
I knew very well how upset you would be."

"So it comes to this, does it?" said Mahony with biting emphasis. "My
wife consents to another man paying her illicit attentions behind her
husband's back!"

"Oh, no, no, no! But I knew how fond you were of Purdy. And I always
hoped it would blow over without ... without coming to anything."

"God forgive me!" cried Mahony passionately. "It takes a woman's brain
to house such a preposterous idea."

"Oh, I'm not quite the fool you make me out to be, Richard. I've got
some sense in me. But it's always the same. I think of you, and you
think of no one but yourself. I only wanted to spare you. And this is
the thanks I get for it." And sitting down on the side of the bed she
wept bitterly.

"Will you assure me, madam, that till to-night nothing I could have
objected to has ever passed between you?"

"No, Richard, I won't! I won't tell you anything else. You get so angry
you don't know what you're saying. And if you can't trust me better
than that--Purdy said to-night you didn't understand me... and never
had."

"Oh, he did, did he? There we have it! Now I'll