save a burning sense of shame. By his violence he had broken down all
her defences. She seemed to have lost both the power and the will to
resist. She remained speechless while the dreadful seconds crept away.

He turned round upon her at length suddenly, almost with a movement of
exasperation. And then something that he saw checked him. He stood
silent, as if not knowing how to proceed.

Across the room their eyes met and held for the passage of many
throbbing seconds. Then slowly a change came over Monck. He turned back
to the table and deliberately picked up the revolver that lay there.

She watched him fascinated. Over his shoulder he spoke. "You will think
me mad. Perhaps it is the most charitable conclusion you could come to.
But I fully realize that when a thing is beyond an apology, it is an
insult to offer one. The key of the door is under the pillow on the
bed. Perhaps you will not mind finding it for yourself."

He sat down with the words in a heavy, dogged fashion, holding the
revolver dangling between his knees. There was grim despair in his
attitude; his look was that of a man utterly spent. It came to Stella at
that moment that the command of the situation had devolved upon her, and
with it a heavier responsibility than she had ever before been called
upon to bear.

She put her own weakness from her with a resolution born of expediency,
for the need for strength was great. She crossed the room to the bed,
felt for and found the key, returned to the door and inserted it in the
lock. Then she paused.