"What promise?"'

"For shame, Geoffrey! for shame! Your promise to marry me."

"You claim my promise after what you have done at the inn?"

She steadied herself against the table with one hand, and put the other
hand to her head. Her brain was giddy. The effort to think was too much
for her. She said to herself, vacantly, "The inn? What did I do at the
inn?"

"I have had a lawyer's advice, mind! I know what I am talking about."

She appeared not to have heard him. She repeated the words, "What did
I do at the inn?" and gave it up in despair. Holding by the table, she
came close to him and laid her hand on his arm.

"Do you refuse to marry me?" she asked.

He saw the vile opportunity, and said the vile words.

"You're married already to Arnold Brinkworth."

Without a cry to warn him, without an effort to save herself, she
dropped senseless at his feet; as her mother had dropped at his father's
feet in the by-gone time.

He disentangled himself from the folds of her dress. "Done!" he said,
looking down at her as she lay on the floor.