Let him be there for ever, to watch over her in those passionate hands! And Tom found himself mechanically lighting the candles on the dinner-table, and lowering the shades to lessen the chance of his face being seen.
While he was so engaged the inner door opened, and Tom and Claire stood face to face.
Her eyes were great with horror: she shut the door behind her, and then stood close against it, shrinking from him to whom she once had clung.
“I can’t bear it,” she gasped. “I must either speak to you or go mad! Yes, yes, I know we may be caught—I can’t help that! Tell me quickly: did you know who I was before I came?”
“No, indeed!”
“Is it by accident that you are his servant?”
“No; he sought me out. So you knew me again, Claire!”
“What did you say? Never call me that again. Of course I knew you! How could I forget you, after all you have made me suffer? If I only could!”
The cruelty of this speech struck him dumb: he drew himself up and grimly challenged her with his eye. Her sufferings, indeed! What had she suffered? She was on the point of marrying a rich man; no doubt it was distressing to her to encounter him again at that juncture; his lip curled at such distress.
She read his thoughts to the letter. “You think I have not suffered!” she cried in a low voice. “You little know; but this is the last straw—the punishment I so richly deserve! Mr. Daintree saved your life. You knew that, of course? But I don’t think you know why he did it: it was because I asked him—it was for my sake!”
