A pang of apprehension shot through me. What could she be driving at which was of greater importance than our future? “As I was going over my papers to-day,” she went on, “I came across one which seemed to have been missorted. It didn’t belong to my section. I glanced at it casually; and then I read it. Have you any idea what it referred to?” “No.” “It said things I could hardly grasp. Even now I think it must be a mistake. I can’t believe it was a real document. It must have been a hoax or something like that. And yet, it had the usual serial numbers on it: B. 53. X. 15.” My throat was dry, but I managed to pull myself together and make a sound like “Well?” She came close to me and looked me straight in the eyes--so like Nordenholt’s gaze in some ways--and I tried to bring my features into a mask. “Is it true that everyone outside the Area has been left to die? Is it true that there has been a deliberate plot to starve all the men, all the women, even the little children in the country? Tell me that, and tell me at once. Don’t wait to wrap it up in fine phrases. Tell me the truth _now_.” I stood before her, silent. “So it _is_ true; and you knew it! You acquiesced in it. You even helped in it; I can see it in your face. You cur!” Still I could not find my voice. This was a different scene from that I had thought of only ten short minutes before. It was not that I felt anything myself, except a sort of dull comprehension that my dreams were shattered; but the sight of the pain in her face moved me more than I could express in words. I wanted to help her. I wanted to justify the plan Nordenholt had made. And yet something kept me tongue-tied. I could find no phrase to open my explanations. The outpouring of speech which I had found so easy only a few seconds earlier now seemed dried up. I merely watched her, saying nothing. For a time she struggled with herself, trying to master her feelings. All this time her face had been set; not a tear had come to her eyelashes. “I have a right to know who planned this,” she continued, after a pause. “Do you know what I thought at first? I suspected Uncle Stanley. I even suspected _him_. But I don’t, now. I know him too well. I didn’t even question him about it. I didn’t want to worry him until I had found out whether it was true or not. But it _is_ true. Who planned it? Answer me!” There was no concealment possible. Once she had the clue, she would discover everything almost immediately. Not even delay was to be gained by a lie. And with her clear eyes upon me, I could not have lied even had I wished to do so. She might never be mine; but I was hers to do as she wished. For a moment I hesitated, turning over in my mind the idea of referring her to Nordenholt himself; but I abandoned that almost instantaneously. The shock would be greater if it came from him; better let me bear the brunt. “Your uncle planned it. I helped him.”