"Oh, bother the child. I mean I'm thinking of myself." This hurriedly, as she turned to stare out of the window. "Do you know the sort of life I've been living?" she asked in a low voice without looking round.
"Whatever it is, it must be my fault, and I don't care what you've been doing. I drove you to it. There's our child, remember."
There was another long silence as she stood at the window. Her laboured breathing, the clenched hands, and spasmodic movements of her shoulders evidenced some great agitation. If it was mere acting she was a far better actress than she had yet shown herself. And the change in her looks when at last she turned to me proved her emotion to be genuine.
"You're a white man right through, and I'm only dirt compared to you," she cried tensely. "Look here, I've lied about that kid. She isn't yours, or mine either for that matter. What do you say to that?" and she flung her head back challengingly.
"Only that I know it already, her age made it impossible. But it makes no difference to the wrong I did you."
"I mean every letter of the pledge I gave you just now, child or no child," I answered in the same earnest tone.
"My God!" she exclaimed ecstatically, throwing her hands up wildly, and then bursting into tears. "And they told me you were a scoundrel!" She was quite overcome, dropped into a chair and hid her face in her hands. The tears were genuine enough, for when she looked up they had made little runlets in the rouge and powder.
"I'm not fit to be the wife of a man like you," she stammered through her sobs. "I'm dirt to you; just dirt. If more men were like you there'd be less women like me."
Had the moment come to push for her confession? It looked like it; but it seemed cowardly to take advantage of her remorse and distress produced by my own trickery.
"Go away now, please," she said after a long interval.
"I don't know. I can't think. I can't do anything. Only that if I'd known---- Oh, for Heaven's sake go away, or I shall say---- Oh, do go!"
"Is there anything else you would like to tell me?"
"No. Yes. I don't know. Only leave me alone now."
"No, not to-morrow. The next day. Give me time. I must have time," she cried wildly.
I hesitated. In her present condition it would have been easy to frighten her into admitting everything; but somehow I couldn't bring myself to do it, so I left her.