Her eyes met his, a little furtively, full of inquiry. “I have done what you wished,” he said quietly. “I called at the Clarence Hotel!” “You saw him!” “No! He sent back my card. He declined to see me.” She showed no sign of disappointment. She sat up and looked into the fire, smoothing her hair mechanically with her hands. “Personally,” Barrington continued, “I could see no object whatever in my visit. I have nothing to say to him, nor, I should think, he to me. I am sorry for him, of course, but he’d never believe me if I told him so. What happened to him was partly my fault, and unless he’s changed, he’s not likely to forget it.” She swayed a little towards him. “It was partly--also--mine,” she murmured. “I don’t see that at all,” he objected. “You at any rate were blameless!” She looked up at him, and he was astonished to find how pale she was. “I was not!” she said calmly. There was a short silence. Barrington had the air of a man who has received a shock. “Ruth!” he exclaimed, glancing towards the door, and speaking almost in a whisper. “Do you mean--that there are things which I have never known?” “Yes!” she answered. “I mean that he might, if he chose, do us now--both of us--an immense amount of harm.” Barrington sat down at the end of the sofa. He knew his wife well enough to understand that this was serious. “Let us understand one another, Ruth,” he said quietly. “I always thought that you were a little severe on Wingrave at the trial! He may bear you a grudge for that; it is very possible that he does. But what can he do now? He had his chance to cross examine you, and he let it go by.” “He has some letters of mine,” Lady Ruth said slowly. “Letters! Written before the trial?” “Yes!” “Why did he not make use of them there?” “If he had,” Lady Ruth said, with her eyes fixed upon the carpet, “the sympathy would have been the other way. He would have got off with a much lighter sentence, and you--would not have married me!” “Good God!” Barrington muttered. “You see,” Lady Ruth continued, resting her hand upon her husband’s coat sleeve, “the thing happened all in a second. I had the check in my hand when you and Sir William came crashing through that window, and Sir William’s eyes were upon me. The only way to save myself was to repudiate it, and let Wingrave get out of the affair as well as he could. Of course, I never guessed what was going to happen.” “Then it was Wingrave,” Barrington muttered, “who played the game?” “Yes!” Lady Ruth answered quietly. “But I am not so sure about him now. You and I, Lumley, know one another a little better today than we did twelve years ago. We have had a few of the corners knocked off, I suppose. I can tell you things now I didn’t care to then. Wingrave had lent me money before! He has letters from me today, thanking him for it.”