the ground. "I suppose Mr. Waterbury told you who I was, and--and, of
course, you could only act as you did."

She was silent, her face quivering.

"And you think that of me? You would think it of me? No, from the first
I knew you were Garrison--"

"Forgive me," he inserted.

"I broke the engagement," she added, "because conditions were
changed--with me. My condition was no longer what it was when the
engagement was made--" She checked herself with an effort.

"I think I understand--now," he said, and admiration was in his eyes;
"I know the track. I should." He was speaking lifelessly, eyes on the
ground. "And I understand that you do not know--all."

"All?"

"Um-m-m." He looked up and faced her eyes, head held high. "I am an
adventurer," he said slowly. "A scoundrel, an impostor. I am not--Major
Calvert's nephew." And he watched her eyes; watched unflinchingly as
they changed and changed again. But he would not look away.

"I--I think I will sit down, if you don't mind," she whispered, hand at
throat. She seated herself, as one in a maze, on a log by the wayside.
She looked up, a twisted little smile on her lips, as he stood above
her. "Won't--won't you sit down and tell--tell me all?"