"Truthful, Geoffrey is out of sympathy with liars; good-natured and quiet though he be, it is only safe to impose on him up to a certain point. You fondly hope you could melt the anger and repulsion your confession would inevitably create by means of easy tears and specious pleadings. I very much doubt it. Do you think he is totally devoid of pride and self-respect and firmness? What leads you to suppose that he would be satisfied with soiled goods? Do you really believe that the knowledge that he is not first with you will merely give him a sort of sentimental heartache--more or less violent--that will pass away once he gets used to the notion? Do you think that he would ever forget that every kiss of his wipes off one of mine? Do you dare hope you would not lose all value in his estimation once he learnt that his own cousin, for one, knows exactly the nature of the words you speak--the look that comes into your eyes--all your pretty little ways when you are most deeply lost in love? Why should you think he is devoid of the desire for exclusive possession? For my part, knowing him and his high-flown ideals, I fancy he could no longer endure the sight of you once he realised what you have been--that there is no mystery about you upon which he cannot gain enlightenment for the asking--that however passionately he may hold you in his arms, others have----" "Stop, Morris! stop!" The words, simple in themselves, rang out wildly in mingled entreaty and command. They were fraught with the arresting power of a great anguish, and left behind them a trail of dead silence, in which nerves were thrilled and hearts beat faster. Evarne stood motionless for a minute, both hands stretched out in mute appeal; then, groping her way somewhat unsteadily to the sofa, she flung herself down, hiding her distorted face in the cushions. But Morris had not finished yet. He too crossed the room, and stood by the side of the prostrate figure. "You shall never marry my cousin--understand that once for all. Never! Do you think I shall submit to see him sacrificed to the plots of a designing woman? I advise you not to venture on another bout with me. I can assure you I've retained no pleasant recollections of your temper and your impertinence. Now, I'll give you some money, and in twenty-four hours you must go. Surely you can see the game is up? Do you agree?" He received no verbal answer, but the head buried in the cushions was slightly shaken. Morris found this obstinacy exasperating beyond endurance. "What a fool you are, Evarne!" he cried roughly. "What do you want to stop for? You can't surely think you will pull off that marriage? Do you fancy you could make yourself out to be merely a sort of martyr--an interesting victim? Absurd! Don't think Geoffrey would be so dull as not to realise that in all probability I have already had successors." Evarne sprang to her feet and faced him, her eyes flashing, both her hands pressed against her breast.