“Perhaps you propose to sit here all day and watch her?” she asked, with biting sarcasm. Then, with a sudden change of tone, indignation flamed up in her. “What is she to you?--Is she any more to you than I am?--Do you see her from one month’s end to another?--Do you ask after her? Do you write to her? Do you take the faintest interest in her?--No!--Once you leave this flat and go to your hateful paper, you forget her as utterly as you do me!” Her eyes blazed at him. “Maisie and I are all the world to each other, Jack! And we will not be separated! We go together!” The violence of this outburst from the woman whose docility he had so long accepted as naturally as he did that of his staff upon the _Rostrum_ shocked him profoundly. At the same time, a blinding passion of jealousy surged up in him. “You shall not go!” “I shall!” There was no mistaking the determination in her voice. “The moment your back is turned!” The room seemed to reel about him. The hitherto so solid foundations of his existence had broken up suddenly beneath him. He could not have suspected so great a capacity for emotion in himself. He pressed his hand against his brow, closed his eyes tight in the sickening shock. “Who is it?” he asked hoarsely. “The man?--His name?” Her eyes seemed to be probing the depth of his wound as they looked into his, but they showed no compassion. “I cannot tell you.” Her tone was unshakably firm. There was again a silence, in which he fought for mastery over himself. He looked at her in uncomprehending despair. “Betty! Betty, tell me why?--For God’s sake, tell me why!--You used to love me. Tell me why you’ve changed!” She evidently was also fighting to keep his emotion from communicating itself to her. He thought, as he waited for her answer, that her head never looked more nobly beautiful. “Do you remember, Jack? Ten years ago?--Ten years to-day?--You said to me: ‘You cannot live without love!’ You were right.” A sob, that almost escaped its check, came into her voice. “I cannot live without love.” He looked for yet another moment upon the sad dignity of her face, upon the quivering, sensitive mouth, upon the eyes that brimmed with tears--then, with an impulsive movement, he sprang forward, seized her two hands in his. The tears were in his eyes also, and in his voice. “Oh, Betty, Betty darling! I remember! And I said ‘I love you! I love you! Trust yourself to it whatever happens!’--Oh, Betty! Is it too late? Is it too late?” Her eyes looked deeply into his, incredulous at first of his sincerity, then softening in a wonderful certitude, she let herself go into his enfolding arms, her mouth drawn wistfully close to his, yet still, for a moment, withheld. All pride went out of her suddenly. She implored, like a soul that has an unbelievable chance of life. “Oh, Jack! You do love me?--You love me still!--Oh, Jack, Jack!” She buried her head upon his shoulder, her body shaking with sobs. He caressed her, soothingly.