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 clung to her…. She thought of many things, of her astonishment that Lydia had chosen Malcolm, of her belief that Lydia loved Angus Burke—of Angus Burke’s face when he heard Lydia announce her engagement…. And these fragments touched some spring of intuition, showing her the truth.

“Lydia… Lydia,” she cried, “why did you do it? How could you do it?” Her words were drawn from her, uttered involuntarily. “He loves you—Angus Burke loves you—and you love him…. You love each other—and you put him aside for Malcolm Crane! How could you?… How could you?”

Lydia sat upright, suddenly calm, cold. She seemed older, matured, drawn—almost unbeautiful.

“How could I do anything else?” she asked. “You must see…. There was no other way—because I was afraid. I wanted him so that I was afraid….”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid I would give in to it—that I would give myself to him…. Oh, I loved him—loved him.”

“You love Angus Burke!”

“Yes…. Yes…. When Malcolm asked me to marry him I knew that was the way—that if I married Mal I would be safe from