leaf she had picked. He saw it, and his face expressed that utter subjection, that slavish devotion, which had done so much to win her.

“I see something has happened. Do you suppose I can be at peace, knowing you have a trouble I am not sharing? Tell me, for God’s sake,” he repeated imploringly.

“Yes, I shan’t be able to forgive him if he does not realize all the gravity of it. Better not tell; why put him to the proof?” she thought, still staring at him in the same way, and feeling the hand that held the leaf was trembling more and more.

“For God’s sake!” he repeated, taking her hand.

“Shall I tell you?”

“Yes, yes, yes . . .”