'Have you minded so much?' he asked. 'I have minded more than I can possibly tell you,' she said. 'But I believe you now. And I am sorry.' Bertie took her hand and kissed it. There was more to tell yet. 'I want to tell you first about the letter,' he said, 'and then there is just one word more. Mrs. Emsworth destroyed it, or believed she did, but it fell into the hands of a man, whom I will name if you wish. At least, she regards it as certain it was he. He blackmailed me twice over it, sending me once a copy of the letter, the second time the letter itself. I paid him both times.' 'Who was it?' asked she. 'Harold Bilton. Now, what do you wish me to do?' 'It will mean publicity if you prosecute him?' she asked. 'All those horrors of a court?' 'Yes.' 'I don't think I could bear it about you,' she said. 'Threaten him if you like. Get back your money if you can. But not that, Bertie.' 'It shall be as you wish.' 'Do you want to very much?' 'I see red when I think of him,' said he. 'Ah, don't, don't!' she said. She was silent a moment. 'One thing more, then,' he said. 'I want to show you the letter. I want you to know all. I have brought it here. Will you read it?' 'Yes, if you wish,' she said. She took it from him, and went over to the brighter light of the dressing-table to read it by. It was long, and it took her some minutes, and in those minutes she learned for the first time what a man's love could be, and she envied with a sense of passionate longing the woman to whom it was written. That was the fire he had spoken of. When she had finished she gave it back to him. 'I have read it all,' she said. 'Poor Bertie! You suffered.' She paused, and suddenly her jealousy and her desire flamed high. 'You never spoke to me like that,' she said. His white face looked down on her. 'No, dear. Since then, until weeks after we were married, I thought all power of feeling like that was dead in me. I had forgotten what it meant. I could not imagine ever wanting to care like that again. Then by degrees you and your sweetness and your love and your beauty awoke the desire again. That desire grew, and my power to feel it grew with it, till it trembled on the verge of passion. It was growing every day when things began to come between us, till in these last weeks we have been worse than strangers.' Something woke in her eyes that he had not seen there for months. 'And will it grow again now?' she asked. 'Or have I spoiled it all?' He drew her to him. 'Amelie, forgive me,' he said. 'Whether you can or not, I don't know, but if you still care for me at all, try, try to help me.' The light in her eyes grew more wonderful. 'If I care for you?' she asked. 'If I care for you?' He kissed her on her beautiful eyes and on her mouth. 'So it is all told, dear,' said he, 'and you will help me. You look very tired. I have been keeping you up.'