"When I came here I had not meant to tell you anything about it, I had decided not to, but--Fay, I can't believe it, I haven't slept all night, I have known for two days, I only found it out by the merest accident that that has happened which I never thought could happen, something impossible." Wentworth's lip quivered. "Michael has deceived me, not by mistake, not just for a moment, but systematically, purposely--for years." There was anger as well as pain in his voice. "It was about the murder of the Marchese," he said hoarsely, "but I don't care what it was about. That is not the point. He has deceived me for reasons of his own. I don't know what they were. And I am afraid, my darling, he has not stopped there. I am afraid he has deceived you too. I am afraid he hoodwinked you when he persuaded you to let him hide in your room. Why did he hide if he wanted to shield the Marchesa? Don't you see that there was no sense in his hiding, though I never thought of it till--lately? I always believed in him implicitly, as you have done. I thought him just the kind of person who _would_ sacrifice himself for a woman. I can understand doing it. It appeals to a nature like mine. I was deeply hurt by his reserve about it, since he came home, but I never thought, it never struck me for one single second that it concealed anything discreditable." "It does not," said Fay suddenly. "My dearest, I am afraid there is no doubt it _does_. What was Michael doing in the garden at that time of night. You forget that. I am the last person in the world to think him capable of anything disgraceful, but I can't resist the conclusion that he was waiting--Oh! Fay, your ears ought not to be polluted by such things--was waiting about in the garden because he was attracted by someone in the house." He felt her hand quiver in his. How womanly she was, how pure. How could any man have had the heart to throw dust in those innocent eyes. He kissed the cold hand reverently. "I hate to speak of such a thing to you, and it somehow seems out of the question when I think of Michael's character. I had brought him up so carefully. I had impressed on him my own high code of morals from the first. And yet--and yet--I am afraid, dearest, that Michael must have been hanging about to have a word with--don't start so, why do you tremble?--with your maid." There was a moment's silence. Fay shook her head. She was unable to articulate. "Then why was he there? You must have been very much surprised and alarmed at his coming to your room so late. And unless he had given you some reason, you would not have tried to hide him. We always come back to that. Fay, why _did_ Michael hide?" Fay struggled to speak. Her white lips moved, but no sound came forth. "You and the Duke tried to save him from being discovered. We all know that. The Duke told me so himself." Another silence. Fay's face became convulsed.