“It _is_ something wrong with Marian then?” Maddison exclaimed, starting to his feet. “Sit down, George, sit down. I’ll walk about in the dark while I tell you; that’s why I asked you not to light the lamps. Sit down, and hold on tight, grit your teeth, George; I’m going to hurt you.” Mortimer paced slowly up and down, while Maddison sat down again, awed into obedience. “I’m going to hurt you, George; I needn’t tell you that I’d give a lot not to have to do it. But you’d better hear it from me than find it out for yourself.” “Quick, quick, don’t beat about the bush. What is it?” “It _is_ about Mrs. Squire. I knew it was no good talking to you until I had facts to tell you. She’s—she’s—my God, it’s hard to tell you!—she’s utterly worthless. She’s——” “Don’t say another word, or I’ll kill you, on my soul I will!” Maddison shrieked, leaping up, his eyes blazing with anger, his hands clenched. “I must, I _must_,” said Mortimer, standing quietly before him, “and you must hear me. It’s not suspicions, it’s facts. More than one man has been with her while you’ve been down here. I suspected it; I had her watched and there’s no room for doubt. I think you know Geraldstein—he’s been with her; another man was with her only the other night. I saw her myself come out of a disreputable public-house with a man and drive off with him. It was sheer accident I saw her; I didn’t follow—I knew enough already. I’m putting it brutally: there’s no good mincing matters. If she was merely your mistress I wouldn’t have worried, but——” Maddison turned away, leaning against the mantelshelf, his face buried in his arms; Mortimer went up to him. “George, old man——” “Don’t—don’t touch me! Leave me alone for a bit.” Mortimer sat down. Not a sound broke the silence except the loud ticking of the clock. It seemed to him hours and hours, though it was barely more than a minute, before Maddison spoke. “What a fool I am, and what a beast,” he said, turning fiercely, “to believe a word of what you’ve said. It’s all some mad mistake. It can’t be true.” “Do you think I’d have told you if I weren’t absolutely certain?” “You don’t know her as I do. She couldn’t. She loves me. Now look here, I won’t hear another word, and to-morrow I’ll go to her. I’ll never leave her again, open to such filthy suspicions. You know your room. I’ll stop here. Good night.” “Here are the reports from the agent,” said Mortimer, ignoring Maddison’s anger and holding out a bundle of papers. Maddison snatched them from him and flung them into the fire. “Do you want me to murder you? Can’t you leave me? For God’s sake, leave me.” Mortimer realized that it would not avail anything to press matters at that moment, so without another word he went out of the room. CHAPTER XXVI