There was another pause. She hesitated, and her hands trembled; then suddenly she'hurried on. - "I wanted you to know. I do not love my husband. I am not bound to him. He has nothing to say in my affairs."

Montague sat rigid, turned to stone. He was half dazed by the words. He could feel Mrs. Winnie's gaze fixed upon him; and he could feel the hot flush that spread over her throat and cheeks.

"It - it was not fair for you not to know," she whispered. And her voice died away, and there was again a silence. Montague was dumb.

"Why don't you say something?" she panted, at last; and he caught the note of anguish in her voice. Then he turned and stared at her, and saw her tightly clenched hands, and the quivering of her lips.

He was shocked quite beyond speech. And he saw her bosom heaving quickly, and saw the tears start into her eyes. Suddenly she sank down, and covered her face with her hands and broke into frantic sobbing.

"Mrs. Winnie!" he cried; and started to his feet.

Her outburst continued. He saw that she was shuddering violently. "Then you don't love me!" she wailed.

He stood trembling and utterly bewildered. "I'm so sorry!" he whispered. "Oh, Mrs. Winnie - I had no idea - "

"I know it! I know it!" she cried. "It's my fault! I was a fool! I knew it all the time. But I hoped - I thought you might, if you knew - "

And then again her tears choked her; she was convulsed with pain and grief.

Montague stood watching her, helpless with distress. She caught hold of the arm of the chair, convulsively, and he put his hand upon hers.

"Mrs. Winnie - " he began.

But she jerked her hand away and hid it. "No, no!" she cried, in terror. "Don't touch me!"

And suddenly she looked up at him, stretching out her arms. "Don't you understand that I love you?" she exclaimed. "You despise me for it, I know - but I can't help it. I will tell you, even so! It's the only satisfaction I can have. I have always loved you! And I thought - I thought it was only that you didn't understand. I was ready to brave all the world - I didn't care who knew it, or what anybody said. I thought we could be happy - I thought I could be free at last. Oh, you've no idea how unhappy I am - and how lonely - and how I longed to escape! And I believed that you - that you might - "

And then the tears gushed into Mrs. Winnie's eyes again, and her voice became the voice of a little child.

"Don't you think that you might come to love me?" she wailed.

Her voice shook Montague, so that he trembled to the depths of him. But his face only became the more grave.