"I see you do not understand," she said. And Audrey: "Oh, please forgive me. No, I do not understand; I have been ill. I am ill." "But I am afraid I do not understand you. I do not understand your manner. If you will tell me who you are--what it is you want--I can perhaps explain." But Audrey only looked at her. Only most pitiable inquiry was in her eyes. Lady Burdon read their inquiry, that same "Oh, how can you be Lady Burdon?" and the question and the silence brought vague, unreasoning alarm in violent collision with her suspicions. Anger was struck out of their conjunction. She said sharply: "You must answer me, please. You must answer me. What is the matter? I am asking you who you are." Mr. Amber's account of the duel says that one contestant drove the other the length of the room and had him pinned against the wall:-- Into Audrey's bewilderment, the dreadful sickness and the trembling she could not control, these sharp demands came like numbing blows upon one in the trough of the sea grappling for life. When Roly had come to her as she lay stupefied and she had answered him "Yes, Roly," he had told her clearly as if in fact he had stood beside her, what she should say to Gran. She had come with the words prepared. They suddenly returned to her now. The words she had made ready: "I am Audrey--" she said. Mr. Amber's account of the duel says that the one contestant, having his rival pinned, was too impetuous and ran upon the other's sword:-- Lady Burdon said: "Audrey? Do you say Audrey? Are you known here?" And ran upon the other's sword:-- "I am Audrey--I am Roly's wife." II As a dreadful blow sends the stricken, hands to face, staggering this way and that on nerveless, aimless legs; or as a tipsy man, unbalanced by fresh air, will blunder into any open door, so, at that "I am Audrey--I am Roly's wife"--Lady Burdon's mind was sent reeling, fumbling through a maze of spinning scenes--marriage? and what then?--before it could fix itself to realisation. She stood plucking with one hand at the fingers of the other; and when the whirl subsided and she came dizzily out of it her mind was leaden and the first words she could get from it were none she wanted. Her voice all thick: "He was not married," she said. The reply, very gentle: "We did not tell any one." And to that nothing better than "Why?" "Roly did not wish it." Thick and heavy still: "Why do you come now?" And Audrey in a little cry: "Because he is dead!" Then Lady Burdon said dully: "You had better go," and at the bewilderment that came into Audrey's eyes repeated more strongly: "You had better go--quickly;" and then "Quickly!" with her voice run up on the word, and her hands that had been plucking flung apart.