"Because I thought it would make it easier for you to confess to _me_--"

"Confess to you? I've nothing to confess--I've loved you honestly! Did
you think I'd been carrying on some nasty sneaking intrigue with a
friend's wife--did you think I was that sort of a fellow--the sort of a
fellow North is? Do you take me for a common blackguard?"

"Marsh, don't! Marshall, please--for my sake--" and she clung to him,
but he cast her off roughly.

"Keep away from me!" he said with sullen repression, but there was a
murderous light in his eyes. "Don't touch me!" he warned.

"But say you forgive me!"

"Forgive you--" He laughed.

"Yes, forgive me--Marsh!"

"Forgive you--no, by God!"

He reached for the bottle.

"Not that--not that, Marsh; your promise only a moment ago--your
promise, Marsh!"

But he poured himself half a tumbler of whisky and emptied it at a
swallow.