Thresk was moved and showed that he was moved.  He rose and walked to the window, turning his back to her.

“Why did she marry him?” he exclaimed.  “She was poor, but she had a little money.  Why did she marry him?” and he turned back to Mrs. Repton for an answer.

She gave him one quick look and said: 

“That is one of the things she has never told me and I didn’t meet her until after she had married him.”

“And why doesn’t she leave him?”

Mrs. Repton held up her hands.

“Oh, the easy questions, Mr. Thresk!  How many women endure the thing that is because it is?  Even to leave your husband you want a trifle of spirit.  And what if your spirit’s broken?  What if you are cowed?  What if you live in terror day and night?”

“Yes.  I am a fool,” said Thresk, and he sat down again.  “There are two more questions I want to ask.  Did you ever talk to Stella”—­the Christian name slipped naturally from him and only Jane Repton of the two remarked that he had used it—­“of that incident in the library at Agra?”

“Yes.”

“And did she in consequence of what you told her give you any account of her life with her husband?”

Mrs. Repton hesitated not because she was any longer in doubt as to whether she would speak the whole truth or not—­she had committed herself already too far—­but because the form of the question nettled her.  It was a little too forensic for her taste.  She was anxious to know the man; she could dispense with the barrister altogether.

“Yes, she did,” she replied, “and don’t cross-examine me, please.”

“I beg your pardon,” said Thresk with a laugh which made him human on the instant.

“Well, it’s true,” said Jane Repton in a rush.  “She told me the truth—­what you know and more.  He stripped when he was drunk, stripped to the skin.  Think of it!  Stella told me that and broke down.  Oh, if you had seen her!  For Stella to give way—­that alone must alarm her friends.  Oh, but the look of her!  She sat by my side on the sofa, wringing her hands, with the tears pouring down her face ...”  Thresk rose quickly from his chair.

“Thank you,” he said, cutting her short.  He wanted to hear no more.  He held out his hand to her with a certain abruptness.

Mrs. Repton rose too.

“What are you going to do?” she asked breathlessly.  “I must know I have a right to, I think.  I have told you so much.  I was in great doubt whether I should tell you anything.  But—­” Her voice broke and she ended her plea lamely enough:  “I am very fond of Stella.”

“I know that,” said Thresk, and his voice was grateful and his face most friendly.

“Well, what are you going to do?”

“I am going to write to her to ask her to join me in Bombay,” he replied.

CHAPTER X

NEWS FROM CHITIPUR