Again she covered her face, and was shaken with grief, while Harcourt, yearning, but not daring to stir a step toward her, stood in pain; till presently she looked up at him sharply with all the former suspiciousness, saying with here a sob and there a sob: "But, after all, words are only words. You can all talk, I dare say; yet you have not been able to give me any valid explanation." "Of what?" he asked. "Of your strange interest in this lady; of your presence here over her grave; of the fact that you chose to occupy the flat, knowing what you know of it. In my mind these are points against you." He could not help smiling. "Let me reason with you," said he earnestly. "Remember that I am not the first person who has occupied the flat since the death of your sister. Did not a Miss L'Estrange have it before me? Well, my motive is precisely the same as hers--I wanted somewhere to live. You did not attribute to Miss L'Estrange any ulterior motive, I think? Then why attribute one to me?" "I attribute nothing to any one," she sighed. "I merely ask for an explanation which you seem unable to give." "Think, now! Have I not given it? I say that I wanted a flat and took this one. Don't mistrust me for nothing!" "Oh, I keep a perfectly open mind. Till things are proved to me, I mistrust no one. But you make your excuses with rather too much earnestness to be convincing; for you would not care what I thought, if you had no motive." "My motive is simply a desire to stand well with you," said David. "You won't punish me for that?" Now for the first time she looked squarely at him, her eyes meditating gravely upon his face, as she said: "If you never knew my sister before, it was good of you to come to her grave. You do not look like one of the ruthless ones." "No, I hope not. Thank you for saying that," said David, with his eyes on the ground. He was shy with women. Such a girl as this filled a shrine in his presence. "And yet, who can ever tell?" she sighed, half to herself, with a weary drop of the hand. "The world seems so hopelessly given over to I don't know what. One would say that men were compounded of fraud and ill-will, so that one does not know whom to trust, nor even if there is any one to be trusted. You go into the flat without any motive apparently that you can give. You would never have managed it, if I had had my way!" "Is it against your will that the flat has been let?" asked David. "That is not your business, you know!" she said, quickly resentful of probing questions. "I only asked," said he, "in order to tell you that if it was against your will, you have only to breathe a wish, and I shall find the means to leave it."