and slinking for the Western express through the crowds at the
railroad terminal.

Still Constance was silent. Through her mind was running the single
thought that she had misjudged him. There had been no other woman in
the case. As he spoke, there came flooding into her heart the sudden
realization of the truth. He had done it for her.

It was a rude and bitter awakening after the past months when the
increased income, with no questions asked, had made her feel that
they were advancing. She passed her hands over her eyes, but there
it was still, not a dream but a harsh reality. If she could only
have gone back and undone it! But what was done, was done, She was
amazed at herself. It was not horror of the deed that sent an icy
shudder over her. It was horror of exposure.

He had done it for her. Over and over again that thought raced
through her mind. She steeled herself at last to speak. She hardly
knew what was in her own mind, what the conflicting, surging
emotions of her own heart meant.

"And so, you are leaving me what is left, leaving me in disgrace,
and you are going to do the best you can to get away safely. You
want me to tell one last lie for you."

There was an unnatural hollowness in her voice which he did not
understand, but which out him to the quick. He had killed love. He
was alone. He knew it. With a final effort he tried to moisten his
parched lips to answer. At last, in a husky voice, he managed to
say, "Yes."