There was a long silence. She had sunk into a chair and hidden her face in her hands. Presently, through the enveloping cloud of her misery, she felt his nearness, and a touch on her shoulder. “Kate--won’t you try to understand; to listen quietly?” She lifted her eyes and met his fugitively. They had lost their harshness, and were almost frightened. “I was angry when I came here--a man would be,” he continued. “But what’s to be gained by our talking to each other in this way? You were awfully kind to me in old times; I haven’t forgotten. But is that a reason for being so hard on me now? I didn’t bring this situation on myself--you’re my witness that I didn’t. But here it is; it’s a fact; we’ve got to face it.” She lowered her eyes and voice to whisper painfully: “To face Anne’s love for you?” “Yes.” “Her determination--?” “Her absolute determination.” His words made her tremble again; there had always been moments when his reasonableness alarmed her more than his anger, because she knew that, to be so gentle, he must be certain of eventually gaining his point. But she gathered resolution to say: “And if I take back my threats, as you call them? If I take back all I’ve said--‘clear’ you entirely? That’s what you want, I understand? If I promise that,” she panted, “will you promise too--promise me to find a way out?” His hand fell from her shoulder, and he drew back a step. “A way out--now? But there isn’t any.” Mrs. Clephane stood up. She remembered wondering long ago--one day when he had been very tender--how cruel Chris could be. The conjecture, then, had seemed whimsical, almost morbid; now she understood that she had guessed in him from the outset this genius for reaching, at the first thrust, to the central point of his antagonist’s misery. “You’ve seen my daughter, then?” “I’ve seen her--yes. This morning. It was she who sent me here.” “If she’s made up her mind, why did she send you?” “To tell you how she’s suffering. She thinks, you know--” He wavered again for a second or two, and then brought out: “She’s very unhappy about the stand you take. She thinks you ought to say something to ... to clear up....” “What difference will it make, if she means to marry you?” “Why--the immense difference of her feeling for _you_. She’s dreadfully hurt ... she’s very miserable....” “But absolutely determined?” Again he made an embarrassed gesture of acquiescence. Kate Clephane stood looking about the rich glaring room. She felt like a dizzy moth battering itself to death against that implacable blaze. She closed her lids for an instant. “I shall tell her, then; I shall tell her the truth,” she said suddenly. He stood in the doorway, his hard gaze upon her. “Well, tell her--do tell her; if you want never to see her again,” he said. XX.