"No! No!" she cried harshly, "I am not grateful. _Why_ did you tell me? Why did you spoil it? What do I care who he was? He was my man; he wanted me. He told lies _because_ he wanted me... I am getting old, and I'm tired and cross, but he cared.--He _did_ care, and he looked up to me, and wanted to appear my equal... Oh, I'm not excusing him. I know all you would say. He deceived me--he borrowed money that he could never pay back, but he would have confessed some day, he would have had to confess, and I should have forgiven him. I'd have forgiven him anything, _because_ he cared ... and after that--he would have cared more--I should have had him. I should have had my home..." Claire hid her face, and groaned in misery of spirit. From her own point of view it seemed impossible that any woman should regret a man who had proved so unworthy, but once again she reminded herself that her own working life counted only one year, as against Cecil's twelve; once again she felt she had no right to judge. Presently she became aware that Cecil was moving about the room, opening the bureau, and taking papers out of a drawer. At the end of ten minutes she came back to the table, and began drawing on her gloves. Her face was set and tearless, but the lines had deepened into a new distinctness. Claire had a pitiful realisation that this was how Cecil would look when she was _old_. "Well," she said curtly, "that's finished! I may as well go for my train. I'm sorry to appear ungracious, but you could hardly expect me to be pleased. You meant well, of course, but it's a pity to interfere. There's just one thing I'd like to make clear--you and I can hardly live together after this. I never was a very agreeable companion, and I shall be worse in the future. It would be better for your own sake to make a fresh start, and for myself--I'm sorry to appear brutal, but I could not stand another winter together. It would remind me too much..." She broke off abruptly, and Claire burst into helpless tears. "Oh, Cecil, Cecil ... don't hate me--don't blame me too much! It's been hard on me, too. Do you think I _liked_ breaking such news? Of course I will take fresh rooms. I can understand that you'd rather have some one else, but let us still be friends! Don't turn against me altogether. I'm lonely, too... I've got my own trouble!"