He regarded her quite placidly.

"You did. That is precisely what you were thinking. Only you funked
putting it into plain words."

He got up and came to her side and stood looking down at her.

"Isn't it a fact?" he insisted. "Isn't it?"

Magda looked up, tried to answer in the negative and failed. He had
spoken the simple truth and she knew it. But none the less she hated him
for it--hated him for driving her up into a corner and trying to force
an acknowledgment from her. She remained obstinately silent.

He turned away with a short, amused laugh.

"So you haven't even the courage of your convictions," he commented.

Magda clenched her hands, driving the nails hard into the soft palms of
them. He was an absolute boor, this man who had come to her rescue in
the fog! He was taking a brutal advantage of their relative positions to
speak to her as no man had ever dared to speak to her before. Or woman
either! Even old Lady Arabella would hardly have thrust the naked truth
so savagely under her eyes.

And now he had as good as told her that she was a coward! Well, at least
he should not have the satisfaction of finding he was right in that
respect. She walked straight up to him, her small head held high, in her
dark eyes a smouldering fire of fierce resentment.