“He said it was something you said to her that made her go.”

“That may be, but it doesn’t prove that I know where she went.”

Henderson looked across the water and suffered keenly.  At last he turned to Edith and laid a firm, strong hand over hers.

“Edith,” he said, “do you realize how serious this is?”

“I suppose I do.”

“Do you want as fine a fellow as Philip driven any further?  If he leaves that hospital now, and goes out to the exposure and anxiety of a search for her, there will be a tragedy that no after regrets can avert.  Edith, what did you say to Miss Comstock that made her run away from Phil?”

The girl turned her face from him and sat still, but the man gripping her hands and waiting in agony could see that she was shaken by the jolting of the heart in her breast.

“Edith, what did you say?”

“What difference can it make?”

“It might furnish some clue to her action.”

“It could not possibly.”

“Phil thinks so.  He has thought so until his brain is worn enough to give way.  Tell me, Edith!”

“I told her Phil was mine!  That if he were away from her an hour and back in my presence, he would be to me as he always has been.”

“Edith, did you believe that?”

“I would have staked my life, my soul on it!”

“Do you believe it now?”

There was no answer.  Henderson took her other hand and holding both of them firmly he said softly:  “Don’t mind me, dear.  I don’t count!  I’m just old Hart!  You can tell me anything.  Do you still believe that?”

The beautiful head barely moved in negation.  Henderson gathered both her hands in one of his and stretched an arm across her shoulders to the post to support her.  She dragged her hands from him and twisted them together.

“Oh, Hart!” she cried.  “It isn’t fair!  There is a limit!  I have suffered my share.  Can’t you see?  Can’t you understand?”

“Yes,” he panted.  “Yes, my girl!  Tell me just this one thing yet, and I’ll cheerfully kill any one who annoys you further.  Tell me, Edith!”

Then she lifted her big, dull, pain-filled eyes to his and cried:  “No!  I do not believe it now!  I know it is not true!  I killed his love for me.  It is dead and gone forever.  Nothing will revive it!  Nothing in all this world.  And that is not all.  I did not know how to touch the depths of his nature.  I never developed in him those things he was made to enjoy.  He admired me.  He was proud to be with me.  He thought, and I thought, that he worshipped me; but I know now that he never did care for me as he cares for her.  Never!  I can see it!  I planned to lead society, to make his home a place sought for my beauty and popularity.  She plans to advance his political ambitions, to make him comfortable physically, to stimulate his intellect, to bear him a brood of red-faced children.  He likes her and her plans as he never did me and mine.  Oh, my soul!  Now, are you satisfied?”