"A lot!" he said thickly. "A lot! Look here!" He took another step
towards her. "Last night I behaved like a mad fool. I--I said more than
I meant to say. I--I saw you, and I thought of that fellow--and--and
you, and it drove me mad!"

"Why?" She was looking at him with calm eyes of contempt, the same look
that she had given to Hugh Alston at their last meeting.

"Why--why?" he said. "Why?" He clenched his hands. "You know why, you
know I love you! I want you! I'll marry you! I'll dig a hole and bury
the past in it--curse the past! I'll say nothing more, Joan. I swear
before Heaven I'll never try and dig up the past again. I forgive
everything!"

"You--you forgive everything?" Her eyes blazed. "What have you to
forgive? What right have you to tell me that you forgive--me?"

"I can't let you go, I can't! Joan, I tell you I'll never throw the past
in your face. I'll forget Alston and--"

The door behind the girl opened, the maid appeared.

"Miss," she said, "there's a car waiting down below. The man says he is
from General Bartholomew, and he has come for you."

"Thank you. I am coming now. My luggage is ready, Annie. Can you get
someone to carry it down?"

Joan moved to the door. She looked back at Slotman. "I hope," she said
quietly, "that we shall never meet again, Mr. Slotman, and I wish you