There was silence a little. Janet's thoughts were in a tumult. Rachel began again: "Now, why am I telling you all this? I need never have told anybody--at least up to a few days ago. Poor Dick was drowned just before I got my divorce, in a boat accident on Lake Nipissing. He had gone there to paint, and was camping out. If he hadn't been drowned, perhaps, he would have made me marry him. So there was no one in the world who knew I was ever with him except--" She turned sharply upon Janet-- "Except this man who turned up here in George's own camp--and in the village, two months ago, but whom I never saw till this week--_this week_--Armistice Day--John Dempsey. That was a queer chance, wasn't it? The sort of thing nobody could have expected. I was coming back from Millsborough. I was--well, just that evening, I was awfully happy. I expected nothing. And then--within twenty minutes--" She told the story to Janet's astounded ears, of the two apparitions in the road, of her two interviews--first with Dempsey, and the following evening with Delane--and of her own attempts to bribe them both. And at that her composure broke down. "Why did I do it?" she said wildly, springing to her feet. "It was idiotic! Why didn't I just accept the boy's story, and say quietly, 'Yes, I was staying with the Tanners'? And why didn't I defy Roger--go straight to George, and hand him over to the police? Don't you see why? Because it is true!--_it's true!_--and I'm terrified. If I lost George, I should kill myself. I never thought I should be--I could be--in love with anybody like this. But yet I suppose it was in me all the time. I was always seeking--reaching out--to somebody I could love with every bit of me, soul and body--somebody I could follow--for I can't manage for myself--I'm not like you, Janet. And now I've found him--and--Do you know what that is?" She pulled a letter out of her pocket, and looked at Janet through a mist of despairing tears.