She looked at him curiously. A new idea concerning this man and his
avoidance of her crept into her mind. It was at least consoling to her
vanity, and it left her a chance. She had roused him too, at last, and
that was worth something.

"Why not?" she asked, moving a step towards him. "It was a foolish
promise. It has done neither of us any good. It has spoilt a part of my
life. Why should I keep silence, and let it go on to the end? Do you know
what it has made of me, this promise?"

He shrank back.

"Don't! I have done all I could!"

"All you could!" she repeated, scornfully. "You drew a diagram of your
duty, and you have moved like a machine along the lines. You talk like a
Pharisee, Lawrence! Come! You knew me years ago! Do you find me changed?
Tell me the truth."

"Yes," he admitted, "you are changed."

She nodded.

"You admit that. Perhaps, perhaps," she continued more slowly, "there are
things about me now of which you don't approve. My friends are a little
fast, I go out alone, I daresay people have said things. There, you see
I am very frank. I mean to be! I mean you to know that whatever I am, the
fault is yours."

"You are as God or the Devil made you," he answered, hardly. "You are