"If you will only tell me why you think such evil I may be able to
justify myself, or at least explain away appearances that are against
me."

"You admit there are such appearances? Remember, I never said so."

"Then on what do you condemn me? You do condemn me, I am certain of
it," she insisted, seeing my gesture of negation. "Are you treating
me fairly, chivalrously, as a gentleman and a man of honour should?
How can you reconcile it to your conscience?"

"Some people talk very lightly of conscience, or use it when it is an
empty meaningless word," I said severely.

"You imply that I have no conscience, or that I should feel the
qualms, the prickings of conscience?"

"After what you've done, yes," I blurted out.

"What have I done? What do you know of it, or what led me to do it?
How dare you judge me without knowing the facts, without a shadow of
proof?" She sprang to her feet and passed to the door, where she
turned, as it were, at bay.

"I have the very best proof, from your own lips. I heard you and your
maid talking together at Calais."

"A listener, Colonel Annesley? Faugh!"