“I had none of my own.”
“No—nor I either! You used her money.—God!” he groaned, turning away with clenched hands.
Justine had risen also, and she stood motionless, her hands clasped against her breast, in the drawn shrinking attitude of a fugitive overtaken by a blinding storm. He moved back to her with an appealing gesture.
“And you didn’t see—it didn’t occur to you—that your doing … as you did … was an obstacle—an insurmountable obstacle—to our ever …?”
She cut him short with an indignant cry. “No! No! for it was not. How could it have anything to do with what … came after … with you or me? I did it only for Bessy—it concerned only Bessy!”
“Ah, don’t name her!” broke from him harshly, and she drew back, cut to the heart.
There was another pause, during which he seemed to fall into a kind of dazed irresolution, his head on his breast, as though unconscious of her presence. Then he roused himself and went to the door.
As he passed her she sprang after him. “John—John! Is that all you have to say?”
“What more is there?”
“What more? Everything!——What right have you to turn from me as if I were a murderess? I did nothing but what your own reason, your own arguments,
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