another.

Yet Molly, torn with remorse over what was irrevocable, did a most
outrageous thing.

"Charlie!" she cried, with a deep ringing passion that would not be
suppressed. "Why have I been deceived like this? Why didn't you tell me?
How could you let me imagine anything so false?" She flung out her other
hand to him and he took it; but still he laughed.

"Oh, come, Molly!" he protested. "I did tell you, you know. I told you
the day after it happened. Don't you remember? I had to account for the
skirt."

She wrenched her hands away from him. The thrill of laughter in his
voice seemed to jar all her nerves. She was, moreover, wearied with the
emotions of the day.

"Oh, don't you see," she cried passionately, "how different it might
have been? If you had told me--if you had made me understand! I could
have cared--I did care--only you seemed to me--unworthy. How could I
know? What chance had I?"

She bowed her head suddenly, and burst into a storm of bitter weeping.

Charlie turned white to his lips. He stood perfectly motionless till the
anguished sobbing goaded him beyond endurance. Then he flung round with
a jerk.

"Stop, for Heaven's sake!" he exclaimed harshly. "I can't bear it. It's