But the eager joy in his eyes was met by anger in hers. “How dare you come here?” she asked. “Keep away from me. Don’t touch me!” He stopped, bewildered. “How did you know I was here?” she went on. “I didn’t know. I’ve searched and searched for you, walked the streets in the hope of catching a glimpse of you. Then Ellis told me he had seen you with Mr. Maddison, so I came straight here, thinking he would perhaps know your address. But I can hardly speak—I’m so glad.” “You’d better go back and sit down again. I’ve something to say to you. You—don’t understand.” The tone of her voice chilled him as if an icy finger had been laid upon his heart, but he did not move. “What is it?” She went past him over to the fireplace, and stood there looking at the glowing logs. So he knew really nothing! Should she tell him everything? She quickly decided not to do so unless driven to it. Turning round sharply to him, she said: “You don’t understand. I left you because I didn’t want to see you again. Coming after me like this won’t make any difference, won’t do a bit of good. I’ve left you and I won’t come back. You’d better forget me as quickly as you can.” “I can’t, I can’t,” he repeated. “I _can’t_. And why should I? I want you to forgive me. I did try to be good to you, but I must have failed miserably to have driven you away from me. I’ve been thinking over what you said about my being selfish. Come back. Try me once more. Won’t you?” “No. I won’t. I can’t. You don’t understand. I _hate_ you. I hate everything you think and do. We’re utterly different.” With a gesture of helpless despair he turned away and began to pace up and down. She could not help pitying him. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but it can’t be helped. It was a stupid mistake our marrying—but I didn’t know myself then. You don’t know me now. It would be a worse mistake, though, for me to come back.” “God help me. I’ve thought of nothing but you since you went away. Is there nothing I can do?—nothing I can say?” “Nothing. Nothing,” she broke in vehemently. “Nothing, I tell you. Why can’t you believe me? It’s no use talking about it. You’d better go.” He stood looking at her, but could read in her eyes only stubborn defiance. For the first time he noticed the new brightness in her beauty and the richness of her dress. “Where are you?” he asked; “what are you doing?” “I’m quite happy, or rather should be if only you’d leave me alone,” was the answer. But he persisted, there coming suddenly into his mind a suspicion of the truth. “Why are you here? The servant must have told you Maddison was out, and—you came in as if you were at home.” “I won’t answer any more questions. I told you you’d better go.” “You needn’t answer. I know. I can see it in your face. You’re this man’s mistress. You—come to this. But it’s not too late. Come away, with me—we’ll go away—anywhere, far away——”