She crossed the room with her free step and sat near my chair. "What shall I talk about?" she laughed. "Leonard Boyce." The laughter left her face and she gave me a swift glance. "Majy dear, I'd rather not," she said with a little air of finality. "I know that," said I. "I also know that in your eyes I am committing an unwarrantable impertinence." "Not at all," she replied politely. "You have the right to talk to me for my good. It's impertinence in me not to wish to hear it." "Betty dear," said I, "will you tell me what was the cause of your estrangement?" She stiffened. "No one has the right to ask me that." "A man who loves you very, very dearly," said I, "will claim it. Was the cause Althea Fenimore?" She looked at me almost in frightened amazement. "Is that mere guesswork?" "No, dear," said I quietly. "I thought no one knew--except one person. I was not even sure that Leonard Boyce was aware that I knew." Another bow at a venture. "That one person is Gedge." "You're right. I suppose he has been talking," she said, greatly agitated. "He has been putting it about all over the place. I've been dreading it." Then she sprang to her feet and drew herself up and snapped her fingers in an heroical way. "And if he has said that Althea Fenimore drowned herself for love of Leonard Boyce, what is there in it? After all, what has Leonard Boyce done that he can't be forgiven? Men are men and women are women. We've tried for tens of thousands of years to lay down hard and fast lines for the sexes to walk upon, and we've failed miserably. Suppose Leonard Boyce did make love to Althea Fenimore--trifle with her affections, in the old-fashioned phrase. What then? I'm greatly to blame. It has only lately been brought home to me. Instead of staying here while we were engaged, I would have my last fling as an emancipated young woman in London. He consoled himself with Althea. When she found he meant nothing, she threw herself into the canal. It was dreadful. It was tragic. He went away and broke with me. I didn't discover the reason till months afterwards. She drowned herself for love of him, it's true. But what was his share in it that he can't be forgiven for? Millions of men have been forgiven by women for passing loves. Why not he? Why not a tremendous man like him? A man who has paid every penalty for wrong, if wrong there was? Blind!"