"Because I had reasons," she replied. "Reasons!" I repeated, my thoughts at once reverting to the piece of seal I had discovered. "Strange reasons they must be, surely. What is his name?" "It is nobody you know. You have never heard of him." It was upon the tip of my tongue to denounce him as the perpetrator of the crime in Bedford Place, but with difficulty I restrained myself, and, impelled by the strangeness of her manner, demanded: "Who is he? Answer me!" "I am very sorry, Frank, but I cannot," she replied, her face deathly pale, and her limbs trembling with agitation. "Then you refuse to answer?" I cried, stung to the quick by her dogged persistency. "Yes; I must." Her hands clasped, her teeth firmly set, her bloodless face tear-stained and haggard, and her hair disordered, she stood rigidly beside the chair that supported her, striving by an almost superhuman effort to suppress her emotion. "Vera," I shouted fiercely, "it seems I've been fooled. Curse that man who has brought misery and destruction to us both! By heaven if--" "He is not to blame: it is I," she interrupted. "You shield him at the expense of yourself. I see. Now, hear me. All my questions you have evaded; to none will you give direct answers. Enough of mysteries which you have refused to reveal ever since knowing me; therefore, we can do naught else but part." "What--you will leave me because of this?" she moaned, with a wild, hysterical cry. "Why don't you go a step further--why don't you say at once you are tired of me?" she cried, with an outburst of passion. "Say that you wish me dead." "That would be untrue," I answered. "You know well I have lived only for you, Vera, and at nothing should I rejoice more than to be able to prove myself mistaken; yet, until that can be done, we must separate." She was grave and thoughtful for a moment, then, looking into my face, said haughtily: "If you are determined upon this step, I am powerless to prevent it." "No, you are not," I asserted. "Why?" "Because you might answer satisfactorily the questions I put to you just now." "No; no, anything but that," she replied promptly, as with a frantic gesture she covered her face with her hands, continuing, "It--it would be far better for us to part, or the result--the result--might prove fatal." "What do you mean?" I demanded incredulously, as the mystery of the seal recurred to me. "I mean that my secret must be kept, even if we part," she gasped, with a futile endeavour to compose herself. "This is your final decision, then?" "Alas! it must be."