being warm, she had not used her shawl. Now she threw it over her
head and gathered the weblike folds tightly under her throat as
though she were growing cold. The next instant, with a swift
movement, she tore it from her head and pushed herself as far as
possible away from him out into the moonlight; and she sat there
looking at him, wild with distrust and fear.

He caught sight of her face.

"Oh, I am doing wrong," he cried miserably. "I must not tell you
this!"

He sprang up and hurried over to the pavement and began to walk to
and fro. He walked to and fro a long time; and after waiting for
him to return, she came quickly and stood in his path. But when he
drew near her he put out his hand.

"I cannot!" he repeated, shaking his head and turning away.

Still she waited, and when he approached and was turning away
again, she stepped forward and laid on his arm her quivering
finger-tips.

"You must," she said. "You _shall_ tell me!" and if there was
anger in her voice, if there was anguish in it, there was the
authority likewise of holy and sovereign rights. But he thrust her
all but rudely away, and going to the lower end of the pavement,
walked there backward and forward with his hat pulled low over his
eyes--walked slowly, always more slowly. Twice he laid his hand on
the gate as though he would have passed out. At last he stopped