Oh, I could tear
them!" she cried desperately.
"Will you hear my excuse?"
"There's no excuse. Nothing--nothing will ever make me forget it.
Oh, the shame of it!"
Here bitter tears again welled to her eyes.
The man was moved by her extremity.
"I am so very sorry. I wouldn't have had it happen for anything. I
didn't know you were in the least like this."
"Why not? If you had met me as I was before I came here there might
have been the shadow of an excuse. Do you usually behave to girls
you meet at friends' houses like you did to me?"
"In friends' houses?" he asked, emphasising the word "friends."
"You heard what I said?"
"This is scarcely a friend's house."
"Why not?"
"Eh?"
"Why not? Why not? Can't you tell me?"
"But--"
"Why not? Why not? Answer!"
"Is it possible?"
"Is what possible?"
"You don't know the house you're in?"
"What house?" she asked wildly.
The look of terror, of fear, which accompanied this question was
enough to dissipate any doubts of the girl's honesty which may have
lingered in the man's mind.
"How long have you been here?"
"Three hours."
"And you don't know what Mrs Hamilton is?"
"No.
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