He made a quick movement, as though to take her hand; she could not meet his eyes, but she knew that they were alight and eager.

“You’ll come back? You— What—do you mean, Elizabeth?”

She swallowed hard; the colour tinged her cheeks again.

“I mean—of course—as your—wife,” she said, almost inaudibly.

He was leaning forward, his eyes on her face.

“I—still don’t understand. Elizabeth —” he paused, then almost harshly said, “Do you love me?”

Her head sank lower.

“No, Stephen. I’m—not—cheating, you see.”

He rose, and went to the window, hands deep in his pockets. How well she knew that quick nervous step, and the furrow between his brows!

“Why do you offer to come back then?” he demanded, over his shoulder.

“There are—so many reasons. I—I think the biggest one—the best one—is that I’ve realised at last that—it’s my duty to—to return to you—if you want me.” She looked wistfully across the room towards him. He said nothing. With an effort she continued. “I—want to—explain—a little. I—you see, when you—married me I was so awfully—young and—and foolish—and uncontrolled. I—wasn’t ready, and—and I wasn’t wise enough to see that—having married you—I’d got to—fulfill my share of our—bargain. You—you were very kind to me, Stephen. Very patient. I didn’t appreciate that at the time. I’ve learned to—just lately, thinking it over. It wasn’t—your fault—that things went wrong between us. It was mine. Only—I hadn’t really had—a fair start. I—I hadn’t ever faced the—realities of life. I—cheated, just as you said. That—wasn’t all my fault, either. It—it was how I was brought up. I’m—not excusing myself, only—trying—to explain.” Again she paused, and still he said nothing. “You—you were quite right—to let me go. I’ve done a lot of—thinking during these months. I wasn’t fair to you before. I—I shirked what was my duty. I—won’t do that again—if—if you’ll take me back.” That was what she had made up her mind to say; it hadn’t been so very difficult after all.

Stephen swung round to face her.

“You mean you’ll come back to me because you conceive it to be your duty. Because you’re sorry for me. Yes, out of pity. Do you think—do you think I could—take you— like that?”

She raised her eyes to his face; sadness lay in them, and it hurt him to see it there.

“I—was afraid—you might not—want me,” she said simply.

“Want you!” He flung out his hand, then swiftly thrust it back into his pocket. “God, if you but knew!”