"Won't you tell me why?" he said. She made a small, impulsive movement of protest. "I didn't--quite--trust you," she said. "But you knew I loved you!" he said. She shook her head again with vehemence. "I didn't know--I didn't know! How could I? Why, you have never told me so--even now." "Great heavens!" he said, as if aghast. Very oddly his unexpected discomfiture restored her confidence. She faced him again. "It doesn't matter now," she said. "You needn't begin at this stage. I've found out for myself--as you might have done long ago if you hadn't been quite blind. But I'm rather glad, after all, that you didn't, because--you learnt to trust me without. It was dear of you to trust me, Burke. I don't know how you managed it." "I would trust you to the world's end--blindfold," he said. "I know you." "Yes, now. But you didn't then. When you found me in the hut--with Guy," her voice quivered a little--"you didn't know--then--that I was with him because he was too ill to be there alone." "And to protect him from me," Burke said. "Yes; that too." She laid her cheek suddenly against his hand. "Forgive me for that!" she said. He drew her head back to his shoulder. "No--you had reason enough for fearing me," he said. "God alone knows what brought you back to me." She leaned against him with a little sigh. "Yes, He knows," she said softly, "just as He knows what made you stay behind to die alone. It was the same reason with us both. Don't you understand?" His arms grew close about her. His lips pressed her forehead. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I understand." They spoke later of Kieff and the evil influence he had exerted over Guy. "The man was his evil genius," Burke said. "But I couldn't keep him away when the boy was damaged and there was no one else to help." He paused a moment. "He was the only man in the world I was ever afraid of," he said then. "He had an uncanny sort of strength that I couldn't cope with. And he was such a fiend. When he tried to get you into his toils--frankly, I was terrified. He had dragged down so many," "And you think--Guy--might have been different but for him?" Sylvia questioned. "Yes. I believe I could have kept him straight if it hadn't been for Kieff. He and Piet Vreiboom were thick as thieves, and between them the boy got pulled under. I was beat, and Kelly, too." "Mr. Kelly!" Sylvia gave a slight start; that name reminded her. "Burke, do you know--I owe him money? I've got to tell you about that." She paused in rather painful hesitation; it was hard to tell him even now what she had sacrificed so much to hide. But he stopped her. "No. You needn't. I know all about it. I put Kelly up to the job. The money was mine." "Burke!" She stared at him in astonishment. "You--knew!" He nodded. "I guessed a little. And I made Donovan do the rest. You were so upset about it. Something had to be done." "Oh, Burke!" she said again.