Countless women have said it, in countless moments similar to this. And with it, often, seeing all the circumstances that have led up to it in their different light, comes the knowledge--as it came also to Sally--the understanding of how the man has dared. Recklessness had led her. In her heart, she blamed herself. She might have known men now; known them from her knowledge at least of one man. Undoubtedly she was to blame, taking everything into account--the defencelessness of her position, the fact that he had known of her relationship with Traill and its termination; yet her eyes flamed with contempt as they met his. "Your hat is over on that chair." she said presently in a strident voice. "Will you go?" He crossed the room quietly--no want of composure--and picked it up. "Would you rather I didn't come and see you again?" he asked, brushing the hat casually with his sleeve. "I never want to see you again!" she exclaimed. He smiled amiably. "Don't you think you're rather foolish?" "Foolish!" "Yes--the unmarried man who keeps a woman is bound to leave her some time or other--that's not half as likely to be the case with--" "What do you mean?" She was white to the lips. He looked puzzled. "I'm afraid I can't understand you," he said. She tried to answer him, but the words mingled in a stammering of confusion before she could utter them. "You don't think there's a chance of Traill coming back to you, do you?" he went on. "I shouldn't be here, I assure you, if there were." Sally's knees trembled with weakness. An overwhelming nausea shook her till she shuddered. "Did he tell you to come here?" she whispered. "Heavens, no! I don't suppose he'd do that. He wouldn't do a thing like that. But I'm pretty sure he's in love with that Miss Standish-Roe--the beautiful Coralie. He knows it. He won't admit it; but I'm certain he is, and I rather think I'd better open his eyes a little." That last remark did not fall within her understanding. She took no notice of it. "And so you came here of your own accord?" "Yes--why not? I had an apparently erroneous idea that you liked me. When you let me come back here after dinner, I was sure of it. I saw no reason why we shouldn't get along together just as well as you and Traill did." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and she hid her face in her hand. "Oh yes--I see my mistake by this time," he said easily. All passion was cooled in him now. "I'm sorry. There was no intention of insulting you in my mind." He moved to the door. "I--I thought you understood it." Sally dropped into a chair, her face still covered; shame--the deepest sense of it--beating through all her pulses. "Well--I must only hope you'll excuse my--my ignorance of women, though I must admit you're a bit different to the rest. Well--I suppose I'd better say good night, then."