The change in her voice and manner confused him. "My dear child, don't be silly," he blundered. "Give me the licence." "Tut, tut--let us understand one another like sensible folks. You must not treat me like a boy, to be bounced in this fashion by John Romley." He began to whip up his temper again. "Nasty tippling parson! I've more than a mind to kick him into the street." Her eyes widened on his with growing knowledge, growing pain: but faith lived in them yet. "I thought you had given him the licence, to be ready for us. Yes, yes--you did say it!" Her hand went up to her bosom for his last letter, which she had worn there until last night. Then she remembered: she had left it upstairs. Having him, she had no more need to wear it. He read the gesture. "You are right, dear, and I forgot. I _did_ say so, because I believed by the time the words reached you--or thereabouts, at any rate--" "Then _you_ have it. Give it to me, please," she commanded. He stepped to the fire-place, unable to meet her eye. "You hurried me," he muttered: "there was not time." For a moment she spread out both hands as one groping in the dark: then the veil fell from her eyes and she saw. The truth spoke to her senses first--in the sordid disarray of breakfast, in the fusty smell of the room with its soiled curtains, its fly-blown mirror, its outlook on the blank court. A whiff of air crept in at the open window--flat, with a scullery odour which sickened her soul. In her ears rang the laugh of the woman in the passage. "What have you done? What have you done to me?" She crouched, shivering, like some beautiful wild creature entrapped. He faced her again. Her eyes were on his, but fastened there now by a shrinking terror. "Hetty!" She put up a hand and turned her face to the wall, as if to shut out him and the light. He stepped to her, caught her by the wrist and forced her round towards him. At the first touch he felt her wince. So will you see a young she-panther wince and cower from her tamer's whip. Yet, although she shuddered, she could not drag her hand away. He was her tamer now: and as he spoke soothingly and she grew quieter, a new faith awoke in her, yet a faith as old as woman; the false imperishable faith that by giving all she binds a man as he has bound her. With a cry she let her brow sink till it touched his breast. Then, straightening herself, she gripped him by both shoulders and stared close into his eyes--clinging to him as she had clung that evening on the frozen canal, but with a face how different! "But you mean no harm? You told me a falsehood"--here he blinked, but she went on, her eyes devouring his--"but you told it in kindness? Say you mean no harm to me--you will get this licence soon. How soon? Do not be angry--ah, see how I humble myself to you! You mean honestly: yes, yes, but say it! how soon?" "Hetty, I'll be honest with you. One cannot get a licence in a day."