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Darrow
waited
.
The
paltriness
of
conventional
denial
was
so
apparent
to
him
that
even
if
it
could
have
delayed
discovery
he
could
no
longer
have
resorted
to
it
.
Under
all
his
other
fears
was
the
dread
of
dishonouring
the
hour
.
“
She
has
given
me
up
,
”
he
said
at
last
.
When
he
had
gone
out
of
the
room
Anna
stood
where
he
had
left
her
.
“
I
must
believe
him
!
I
must
believe
him
!
”
she
said
.
A
moment
before
,
at
the
moment
when
she
had
lifted
her
arms
to
his
neck
,
she
had
been
wrapped
in
a
sense
of
complete
security
.
All
the
spirits
of
doubt
had
been
exorcised
,
and
her
love
was
once
more
the
clear
habitation
in
which
every
thought
and
feeling
could
move
in
blissful
freedom
.
And
then
,
as
she
raised
her
face
to
Darrow
’
s
and
met
his
eyes
,
she
had
seemed
to
look
into
the
very
ruins
of
his
soul
.
That
was
the
only
way
she
could
express
it
.
It
was
as
though
he
and
she
had
been
looking
at
two
sides
of
the
same
thing
,
and
the
side
she
had
seen
had
been
all
light
and
life
,
and
his
a
place
of
graves
.
.
.
She
didn
’
t
now
recall
who
had
spoken
first
,
or
even
,
very
clearly
,
what
had
been
said
.
It
seemed
to
her
only
a
moment
later
that
she
had
found
herself
standing
at
the
other
end
of
the
room
—
the
room
which
had
suddenly
grown
so
small
that
,
even
with
its
length
between
them
,
she
felt
as
if
he
touched
her
—
crying
out
to
him
“
It
is
because
of
you
she
’
s
going
!
”
and
reading
the
avowal
in
his
face
.
That
was
his
secret
,
then
,
their
secret
:
he
had
met
the
girl
in
Paris
and
helped
her
in
her
straits
—
lent
her
money
,
Anna
vaguely
conjectured
—
and
she
had
fallen
in
love
with
him
,
and
on
meeting
him
again
had
been
suddenly
overmastered
by
her
passion
.
Anna
,
dropping
back
into
her
sofa
-
corner
,
sat
staring
these
facts
in
the
face
.
The
girl
had
been
in
a
desperate
plight
—
frightened
,
penniless
,
outraged
by
what
had
happened
,
and
not
knowing
(
with
a
woman
like
Mrs
.
Murrett
)
what
fresh
injury
might
impend
;
and
Darrow
,
meeting
her
in
this
distracted
hour
,
had
pitied
,
counselled
,
been
kind
to
her
,
with
the
fatal
,
the
inevitable
result
.
There
were
the
facts
as
Anna
made
them
out
:
that
,
at
least
,
was
their
external
aspect
,
was
as
much
of
them
as
she
had
been
suffered
to
see
;
and
into
the
secret
intricacies
they
might
cover
she
dared
not
yet
project
her
thoughts
.
“
I
must
believe
him
.
.
.
.
I
must
believe
him
.
.
.
”
She
kept
on
repeating
the
words
like
a
talisman
.
It
was
natural
,
after
all
,
that
he
should
have
behaved
as
he
had
:
defended
the
girl
’
s
piteous
secret
to
the
last
.
She
too
began
to
feel
the
contagion
of
his
pity
—
the
stir
,
in
her
breast
,
of
feelings
deeper
and
more
native
to
her
than
the
pains
of
jealousy
.
From
the
security
of
her
blessedness
she
longed
to
lean
over
with
compassionate
hands
.
.
.
.
But
Owen
?
What
was
Owen
’
s
part
to
be
?
She
owed
herself
first
to
him
—
she
was
bound
to
protect
him
not
only
from
all
knowledge
of
the
secret
she
had
surprised
,
but
also
—
and
chiefly
!
—
from
its
consequences
.
Yes
:
the
girl
must
go
—
there
could
be
no
doubt
of
it
—
Darrow
himself
had
seen
it
from
the
first
;
and
at
the
thought
she
had
a
wild
revulsion
of
relief
,
as
though
she
had
been
trying
to
create
in
her
heart
the
delusion
of
a
generosity
she
could
not
feel
.
.
.
The
one
fact
on
which
she
could
stay
her
mind
was
that
Sophy
was
leaving
immediately
;
would
be
out
of
the
house
within
an
hour
.
Once
she
was
gone
,
it
would
be
easier
to
bring
Owen
to
the
point
of
understanding
that
the
break
was
final
;
if
necessary
,
to
work
upon
the
girl
to
make
him
see
it
.
