“Thank you,” he said, and gently released her hand.

It was the swiftest and one of the most complete victories of his life.

CHAPTER III

CONFESSION

It was nearly two hours later that Vera sitting alone before her fire turned with a slight start at the sound of her husband’s step in the room beyond.  She was wearing a pale silk dressing-gown and her hair hung in a single plait over her shoulder, giving her a curiously girlish look.  The slimness of her figure as she leaned among the cushions accentuated the fragility which her recent illness had stamped upon her.  Her eyes were ringed with purple, and they had a startled expression that the sound of the squire’s step served to intensify.  At the soft turning of the handle she made a movement that was almost of shrinking.  And when he entered she looked up at him with a small pinched smile from which all pleasure was wholly absent.

He was still in evening dress, and the subdued light falling upon him gave him the look of a man still scarcely past his prime.  He stood for a moment, erect and handsome, before he quietly closed the door behind him and moved forward.

“Still up?” he said.

Again at his approach she made a more pronounced movement of shrinking.  “But, I’ve been waiting for you,” she said rather hopelessly.

He came to her, stood looking down at her, the old bitter frown struggling with a more kindly expression on his face.  He was obviously waiting for something with no pleasant sense of anticipation.

But Vera did not speak.  She only sat drawn together, her fingers locked and her eyes downcast.  She was using her utmost strength to keep herself in hand.

“Well?” he said at length, a faint ring of irritation in his voice, “Have you nothing to say to me now I have come?”

Her lips quivered a little.  “I don’t think—­there is anything to be said,” she said.  “I knew—­I felt—­it was too good to last.”

“It’s over then, is it?” he said, the bitterness gaining the upper hand because of the misery at his heart.  “The indiscretions of my youth have placed me finally beyond the pale.  Is that it?”

She gripped her hands together a little more tightly.  “I think you have been—­you are—­rather cruel,” she said, her voice very low.  “If you had only—­told me!”

He made a gesture of exasperation.  “My dear girl, for heaven’s sake, look at the thing fairly if you can!  How long have I known you well enough to let you into my secrets?  How long have you been up to hearing them?  I meant to tell you—­as you know.  I’ve been on the verge of it more than once.  It wasn’t cowardice that held me back.  It was consideration for you.”

She glanced at him momentarily.  “I see,” she said in that small quivering voice of hers that told so little of the wild tumult within her.

“Well?” he said harshly.  “And that is my condemnation, is it?  Henceforth I am to be thrust outside—­a sinner beyond redemption.  Is that it?”