That this chivalrous and kind-hearted gentleman, this devoted friend and helper, should thus suddenly transform himself before her eyes, not only into a traitor to his friend, but into an accuser, a traducer, was so unexpected, so appalling to the young and simple-minded woman and devoted wife that for a few moments she was paralysed, she could neither reproach him nor reply to him. Mr. Candover, meanwhile, was not at a loss. With his eyes still glowing, his face still flushed, he presently went on, coming nearer to her, and speaking with the same passion as before:-- “Why do you hesitate to admit the truth, that you also know your wretched husband to be unworthy a thought? He didn’t even care for you. Lovely as you are, you were never in his eyes the one treasure, the one priceless pearl, that such a woman as you deserved to be. Hateful as the task is, I could prove to you that he never cared for you as he ought to have done, that the money of which he robbed his employers was not spent on you.” By the time he had said these words Audrey had had time to recover from her first stupefaction, and to review her forces mentally. And to this bewilderment, this horror, there succeeded a mighty fear. Who was this man whom she had believed so good, so kind, such a true friend? What were his motives in uttering these vile words? No passion, however unlawful, however wild, could have prompted an outbreak so violent, so wicked, against the friend he had professed to love and pity. Did he believe what he said? Was he one of the great army of the outside world, who looked upon Gerard as a criminal well punished? She was frightened, amazed, perplexed rather than passionate or indignant. It was as if the rock on which she had relied had crumbled away, and it was this thought which she expressed when at last she spoke. Standing by one of the lounge-chairs, and clutching the back tightly, as much for support as to put a barrier between her and the man who had so instantly become in her eyes a sort of demon, she said in a low-pitched, dull voice:-- “And I thought you our friend! I trusted you! And so did he!” The words were so simple, so free from any trace of affectation or indignation in their unshaken loyalty to her own husband and bewilderment at his friend’s change of face, that even Mr. Candover, practised man of the world as he was, was rather thrown off his balance by them, and at a loss what to say. Since it was evident that his accusations of Gerard had only recoiled on himself, it was useless to go on in the same strain. While to make love again to a woman who stared blankly and apprehensively at him as if at an enraged animal was equally out of the question. This being the case, Mr. Candover speedily recognised the fact that his attack had been premature, and took refuge in the usual protestations of humility, and of despair at her displeasure.