He fell again to pacing up and down, thinking it over; seeing past incidents afresh in the merciless light of his present knowledge; recalling this or that insignificant circumstance which at the time had aroused, unreasonably as it seemed, his distrust;--her occasional uneasiness and distress, that air she had of being on her guard, the look in the picture--ah, he understood it now! It was the shadow of falsehood, which for months had clouded her every thought and action. What a fool he had been, he reflected fiercely--how he had allowed himself to be deceived--made an easy prey by the extent of his infatuation--how she had juggled with the truth, telling him the worst of herself in such a way that he had believed, all the more determinedly, the reverse.
He stopped at last his restless pacing to and fro and paused beside her. The fierce tide of anger, the first bitterness of his disillusion, had subsided. He was cold, with the coldness of despair. His face was worn and haggard, as if from the suffering of years, but it was set in rigid lines, from which all feeling seemed to have vanished. His eyes were dry and hard.
"I think," he said, and there was a dull, toneless sound in his voice; he spoke slowly, like one who either weighed his words with great care, or was afraid to trust himself too far, "I think there had better be an end to this. I should only say, if I said all I thought, things I might afterwards--regret; and I wouldn't"--his voice broke ever so little--"God knows I don't want to be unjust! But I cannot"--he let his hand fall with a look of dull despair--"I _cannot_ understand how you have kept this from me all these months!"
He paused, as if expecting an answer, an excuse, perhaps of some sort; but she said nothing, and he went on, after a moment, his voice growing more uncertain: "It isn't so much the marriage--that could be, perhaps"--He hesitated, his heavy brows drawn together frowning--"The man must be an absolute wretch," he said, suddenly, "there must be--for your sake I hope so--some way out"----
"Oh, for me"--she made a little gesture of utter carelessness--"for me it can make no difference--now."
"For myself," he went on, not heeding her words, perhaps not fully grasping their meaning, "I couldn't--whether the marriage held or not--I couldn't forgive--being so deceived."