'Shall you tell him about the drop of blood on your hand?'

'Without the slightest hesitation. But not until I am asked, and I
shall be very glad if you will not speak of it.'

'I won't,' Margaret said; 'but I wonder why you have told me if you
mean to keep it a secret!'

The veteran man of letters turned his sad grey eyes to hers, while his
lips smiled.

'The world is not all bad,' he said. 'All men are not liars, and all
women do not betray confidence.'

'It's very good to hear a man like you say that,' Margaret answered.
'It means something.'

'Yes,' assented Griggs thoughtfully. 'It means a great deal to me to
be sure of it, now that most of my life is lived.'

'Were you unhappy when you were young?'

She asked the question as a woman sometimes does who feels herself
strongly drawn to a man much older than she. Griggs did not answer at
once, and when he spoke his voice was unusually grave, and his eyes
looked far away.

'A great misfortune happened to me,' he said. 'A great misfortune,' he
repeated slowly, after a pause, and his tone and look told Margaret
how great that calamity had been better than a score of big words.