Her first thought was: "He's going too in a few hours--Ineedn't see him again before he leaves..." At that momentthe possibility of having to look in Darrow's face and hearhim speak seemed to her more unendurable than anything elseshe could imagine. Then, on the next wave of feeling, camethe desire to confront him at once and wring from him sheknew not what: avowal, denial, justification, anything thatshould open some channel of escape to the flood of her pent-up anguish.

　　She had told Owen she was tired, and this seemed asufficient reason for remaining upstairs when the motor cameto the door and Miss Painter and Sophy Viner were borne offin it; sufficient also for sending word to Madame deChantelle that she would not come down till after luncheon.

　　Having despatched her maid with this message, she lay downon her sofa and stared before her into darkness...

　　She had been unhappy before, and the vision of old miseriesflocked like hungry ghosts about her fresh pain: sherecalled her youthful disappointment, the failure of hermarriage, the wasted years that followed; but those werenegative sorrows, denials and postponements of life. Sheseemed in no way related to their shadowy victim, she whowas stretched on this fiery rack of the irreparable. Shehad suffered before--yes, but lucidly, reflectively,elegiacally: now she was suffering as a hurt animal must,blindly, furiously, with the single fierce animal longingthat the awful pain should stop...

　　She heard her maid knock, and she hid her face and made noanswer. The knocking continued, and the discipline of habitat length made her lift her head, compose her face and holdout her hand to the note the woman brought her. It was aword from Darrow--"May I see you?"--and she said at once, ina voice that sounded thin and empty: "Ask Mr. Darrow to comeup."The maid enquired if she wished to have her hair smoothedfirst, and she answered that it didn't matter; but when thedoor had closed, the instinct of pride drew her to her feetand she looked at herself in the glass above the mantelpieceand passed her hands over her hair. Her eyes were burningand her face looked tired and thinner; otherwise she couldsee no change in her appearance, and she wondered that atsuch a moment her body should seem as unrelated to the selfthat writhed within her as if it had been a statue or apicture.

　　The maid reopened the door to show in Darrow, and he pauseda moment on the threshold, as if waiting for Anna to speak.

　　He was extremely pale, but he looked neither ashamed noruncertain, and she said to herself, with a perverse thrillof appreciation: "He's as proud as I am."Aloud she asked: "You wanted to see me?""Naturally," he replied in a grave voice.

　　"Don't! It's useless. I know everything. Nothing you cansay will help."At the direct affirmation he turned even paler, and hiseyes, which he kept resolutely fixed on her, confessed hismisery.

　　"You allow me no voice in deciding that?""Deciding what?""That there's nothing more to be said?" He waited for her toanswer, and then went on: "I don't even know what you meanby 'everything'.""Oh, I don't know what more there is! I know enough. Iimplored her to deny it, and she couldn't...What can you andI have to say to each other?" Her voice broke into a sob.

　　The animal anguish was upon her again--just a blind cryagainst her pain!

　　Darrow kept his head high and his eyes steady. "It must beas you wish; and yet it's not like you to be afraid.""Afraid?""To talk things out--to face them.""It's for YOU to face this--not me!""All I ask is to face it--but with you." Once more hepaused. "Won't you tell me what Miss Viner told you?""Oh, she's generous--to the utmost!" The pain caught herlike a physical throe. It suddenly came to her how the girlmust have loved him to be so generous--what memories theremust be between them!

　　"Oh, go, please go. It's too horrible. Why should I haveto see you?" she stammered, lifting her hands to her eyes.

　　With her face hidden she waited to hear him move away, tohear the door open and close again, as, a few hours earlier,it had opened and closed on Sophy Viner. But Darrow made nosound or movement: he too was waiting. Anna felt a thrillof resentment: his presence was an outrage on her sorrow, ahumiliation to her pride. It was strange that he shouldwait for her to tell him so!

　　"You want me to leave Givre?" he asked at length. She madeno answer, and he went on: "Of course I'll do as you wish;but if I go now am I not to see you again?"His voice was firm: his pride was answering her pride!

　　She faltered: "You must see it's useless----""I might remind you that you're dismissing me without ahearing----""Without a hearing? I've heard you both!"----"but I won't," he continued, "remind you of that, or ofanything or any one but Owen.""Owen?""Yes; if we could somehow spare him----"She had dropped her hands and turned her startled eyes onhim. It seemed to her an age since she had thought of Owen!

　　"You see, don't you," Darrow continued, "that if you send meaway now----"She interrupted: "Yes, I see----" and there was a longsilence between them. At length she said, very low: "Idon't want any one else to suffer as I'm suffering...""Owen knows I meant to leave tomorrow," Darrow went on. "Anysudden change of plan may make him think..."Oh, she saw his inevitable logic: the horror of it was onevery side of her! It had seemed possible to control hergrief and face Darrow calmly while she was upheld by thebelief that this was their last hour together, that after hehad passed out of the room there would be no fear of seeinghim again, no fear that his nearness, his look, his voice,and all the unseen influences that flowed from him, woulddissolve her soul to weakness. But her courage failed at theidea of having to conspire with him to shield Owen, ofkeeping up with him, for Owen's sake, a feint of union andfelicity. To live at Darrow's side in seeming intimacy andharmony for another twenty-four hours seemed harder than tolive without him for all the rest of her days. Her strengthfailed her, and she threw herself down and buried her sobsin the cushions where she had so often hidden a face aglowwith happiness.

　　"Anna----" His voice was close to her. "Let me talk to youquietly. It's not worthy of either of us to be afraid."Words of endearment would have offended her; but her heartrose at the call to her courage.

　　"I've no defense to make," he went on. "The facts aremiserable enough; but at least I want you to see them asthey are. Above all, I want you to know the truth aboutMiss Viner----"The name sent the blood to Anna's forehead. She raised herhead and faced him. "Why should I know more of her thanwhat she's told me? I never wish to hear her name again!""It's because you feel about her in that way that I ask ............