"But it isn't as a man would see it--a man like George," said Rachel, shaking her head. "Look there"--she pointed to a little bundle of letters lying on the table--"there are letters from his people which he brought me this morning. It's awful!--how they take me at his valuation--just because he loves me. I must be everything that's good, because he says so. And you can see what kind of people they are--what they think of him--and what they imagine about me--what they think I _must_ be--for him to love me. I don't mean they're prigs--they aren't a bit. It's just their life coming out, quite naturally. You see what they are--quite simply--what they can't help being, and what they expect from him and the woman he marries. And he's got to take me home to them--some time--to present me to them. The divorce is difficult enough. Even if they think of me as quite innocent, it will be hard for them, that George should marry a divorced woman." "What have they to do with it?" interrupted Janet. "It's only George that matters--no other person has any right whatever to know! You needn't consider anybody else." "Yes--but think of _him_. It's bad enough that I should know something he doesn't know--but at least _he's_ spared. He can take me home to his mother--whom he adores--and if _I_ know that I'm a cheat and a sham--he doesn't--it will be all easy for him." Janet was silenced for the moment by the sheer passion of the voice. She sat, groping a little, under the stress of her own thought, and praying inwardly--without words--for light and guidance. "And think of _me_, please!" Rachel went on. "If I tell him, it's done--for ever. He'll forgive me, I think. He may be everything that's dear, and good, and kind"--her voice broke--"but it'd hit him dreadfully hard. A man like that can't forget such a thing. When I've once said it, I shall have changed everything between us. He must think--some time--when he's alone--when I'm not there--'It was Dick Tanner once--it will be some one else another time!' I shall have been pulled down from the place where he puts me now--even after he knows all about Roger and the divorce--pulled down for good and all--however much he may pity me--however good he may be to me. It will be love perhaps--but another kind of love. He can't trust me again. No one could. And it's that I can't bear--I can't _bear_!" She looked defiantly at Janet, and the little room with its simple furnishings seemed too small a stage for such an energy of fear and distress. "Yes--that you could bear," said Janet quietly, "with him to help you--and God. It would all straighten out in the end--because the first step would be right." Rachel turned upon her. "Now that I've told you," she cried, "can _you_ ever think the same of me again? You know you can't!" Janet caught her cold hands, and held them close, looking up to her.