"No, I'm not. I've been seeing myself and seeing my life to-night. I liked these people--I liked these men who talked to me and flattered me, and ignored the fact that I had a husband--I liked them and encouraged them. And one night, on the balcony of the Palazza Ugochini----" She stopped, then made a sudden gesture, as if to sweep unnecessary things aside. "But I won't talk of that!" she cried. "It is the later time I want to come to--the time after James's death, when I met Frances Hope again." She paused to regain her breath; but the look of determination did not leave her face. Her dark eyes seemed; almost to challenge Nance's. "When I went to Monte Carlo with Frances," she went on, "I did not go to forget poor James's death, as you believed; I went to forget something else that had made me much more unhappy; and the way I set about forgetting was to gamble. Yes, I know what you feel!--I know what you think! But it cannot alter anything. I gambled. I lost large sums of money that Frances advanced me. I _had_ to borrow, because there were formalities to be gone through about James's will, before I could draw my income. Then I came back to London; I met Val Serracauld and Lord Deerehurst again; I took an expensive flat; I lived like people six times as well off as myself; I gambled again----" "Clodagh!" Clodagh put up her hand. "Wait! It's all leading up to something. I was utterly foolish, utterly mad. I borrowed again to pay my debts at bridge. Then one day Frances asked me for her money. It seemed like the end of the world; but it was a debt of honour--it couldn't be shirked. I wrote her out a cheque that left me beggared of the half-year's income I had been counting on to put me straight." "Oh, Clo, Clo! Why wasn't I here?" "Yes, why wasn't somebody here? But the worst is to come. I did not know where to look, I did not know where to turn, when suddenly--quite suddenly--I thought of your thousand pounds----" Nance gave a little gasp. "I remembered that. And, Nance--Nance, can you guess what happened?" Nance did not attempt to answer. "I took that thousand pounds. I stole it. Don't say anything! Don't try to excuse me! I want to face things. I told myself I would write and tell you; then I told myself I would say it when you came back. But when you did come"--she halted for a second--"when you did come, Nance, you loved me, you admired me, you _respected_ me, and--and I couldn't. When you asked me for the money that night at Tuffnell, I knew I would have to find it and pay it back without making any confession to you." A sound that was almost a moan escaped Nance's lips.