Page:The Yellow Book - 04.djvu/77

Rh seeming disloyalty, it is not I, as you will believe and understand, but something, as you said just now, quite foreign within me. For I could only be true and loyal and He hesitated, raising his shameful eyes to her. "What—what is it, George?" she asked anxiously, "what have you done?" His hand rose and fell mechanically upon her head. He parted his lips with an effort, and continued. The task was harder than he had thought.

"It is right" he said slowly, "that we should have no secrets from one another; it is necessary, dear, that we should bear all things in common. To be man and wife, and to love each other, calls for this openness between us." He stumbled on the threshold of his confession; the pain of this slow progression suddenly unnerved him; all at once he took it with a rush. "Darling," he cried quickly and on a sharper note, "I want to confess something to you, and I want your forgiveness. That night I was away I did not spend with Fowler. I spent it" "You spent it gambling?" she asked, in a low voice. "No," he said with a groan, "I spent it in another house—I spent it—I spent it in shame."

He breathed the better for the words, even though a terrible silence reigned in the room. At least the worst part of his penalty was undergone, for the explanation was over.

But when she spoke he realised, with a sense of dread, that he had not passed the ordeal.

"I don't understand, George," she said in a voice thick with trouble. "What is it? Where did you stay?" The strain was too great for his weak nerves. "For God's sake, Letty," he broke out, "try to understand me and forgive me. I dined too well; I was almost drunk. I left the club with Fowler very late. Oh, it s hideous to have to tell you. I met some