"When? Who was it?" "Last year." "Who was it, I say?" "He was--a--a factory superintendent," said Angelica. "But it’s all over now. I’m awfully, awfully sorry, Eddie." "You mean you--engaged yourself to this fellow while I was in France? After you’d promised to marry me?" "I know it was--wrong; but I hope you’ll forgive me, Eddie!" "Yes," he said, "I forgive you, Angelica; but oh, how _could_ you? I’m so disappointed in you! It was so dishonourable! It was--low." "I know! I know! I know!" she cried, with an uncontrollable impatience. "But--forgive me and forget all about it. I’m so sorry. What more can I say?" "Did he--did you let him--kiss you?" "Yes!" she murmured. "Angelica!" "Oh, but I’m _sorry_!" she cried desperately. Eddie stood looking at the floor for an instant; then, with fierce suddenness, he caught her by the arm and pulled her forward, so that he could look into her face. "Look here!" he shouted. "How far did this thing go?" "It was nothing!" she cried. "You said he kissed you. You said you were engaged to him. Some coarse, common brute of a workman mauling you--I know those people--I know their love-making. God, Angelica! You make me _sick_! You’ve no fineness, no--decency!" he cried. He searched her face with eyes that terrified her. "I don’t believe you," he said suddenly. "But, Eddie----” she stammered. "I don’t believe you!" he said again. "You’re lying. This fellow was your lover!" "Oh, don’t!" she cried. "Answer me! Tell me the truth!" "No! I did! I did tell you the truth. There was nothing--like that." "Swear it! Say, ‘I swear to God I was absolutely faithful to you all the time you were away.’" His eyes never left her face; but she repeated, firmly: "I swear to God I was absolutely faithful to you all the time you were away." He looked puzzled. He sat down heavily in a chair and covered his eyes with his hand. "I’m sorry," he said. "I didn’t mean to be so rough. Only--it’s a terrible disappointment to me, Angelica. I never imagined such a thing. I almost wish you hadn’t told me. I keep seeing you and some hulking fellow in overalls----” She was sobbing bitterly, standing before him like a forlorn and penitent child. "Don’t cry!" he said more kindly. "Don’t cry, my dear. I’ll try to forget it. I’ll try!" "Will it--not make any difference?" she sobbed. "I’ll try not to let it. Only, Angelica--it was often so hard--over there--not to--so hard to be true to you--not even to think of any one else; and when I think of it, and how I hated myself, even for my thoughts--I feel like a _fool_. I don’t believe you’d have cared _what_ I did. You don’t feel as I do. You don’t value loyalty as I do." She seized this opening. "No!" she cried. "I shouldn’t have cared, one bit, whatever you did, if only we love each other now!" "No, don’t! I don’t like to hear you say that. I want you to care, as I do. I want you to be fine and--high-minded." "Eddie, I’m not. There’s no use pretending that I am."