“I’ll answer you.  I am.  I love him as you could never do.  I was willing to give him up to you—­for he loves me, not you—­so that he should not be false to his word.  I didn’t know what you were like, then.  But now I don’t believe you’d ever make him happy.  You don’t love him—­you haven’t got it in you.  You wouldn’t be content with any one man.  I’ve watched you.  You’re absolutely heartless; and you’d only make Frank miserable.  You’re willing to disgrace him as well as yourself.  You don’t mind if you ruin him.  Frank——­”

She turned towards Wargrave.

“You said you loved me.  Is it true?”

He answered firmly: 

“Yes, I do.”

“Then will you marry me?  This woman will only wreck your life.  Choose between us.”

He turned in desperation to Mrs. Norton.

“Violet, you don’t really want me, do you?  You don’t love me.  I’ve felt for a long time that you’re forgetting me.  I love Muriel and she loves me.  If you ever cared for me release me from my promise.”

Mrs. Norton lay back calmly in her chair and looked with a smile from one to the other.  Then she said deliberately: 

“This morning I wrote to my husband and told him that I was never returning to him, that I was going to you, Frank.  That is why I asked this girl here to-day to tell you before her that now I’m going to ask you to keep your promise.  Will you?”

The girl looked at him appealingly and stretched out her hands to him.

“Frank, for your own sake, if not for mine, don’t listen to her.”

He stood irresolute, torn by conflicting emotions.  Then with an effort he replied: 

“Muriel, I must.  I can’t break my word.”

Mrs. Norton gave a mocking laugh.  The girl shrank from him and hid her face in her hands for a moment.  Then she looked up and said, desperately calm: 

“Very well, be it so.  You’ve decided and there’s nothing more to be said.  You’ve shamed me before this woman; and I never want to see you again.”

She turned and walked out of the room.

CHAPTER XIII

THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE

As Muriel passed through the door Wargrave started to follow her; but Violet cried peremptorily: 

“Frank, stay here.  Please realise that I come first now.  Sit down.”

He obeyed mechanically.  She went on petulantly: 

“These emotional scenes are rather exhausting.  Do you mind calling the hotel ‘boy’ and ordering a cocktail for me?  You ought to have one yourself.  I suppose, like all men, you hate scenes.  Then you should be grateful to me for saving you from that spiteful little jungle cat.”