she looked more like a child than ever. She half turned her head, as if feeling his presence, so he saw how pale she was, how black the circles round her eyes.
“My little love!” he cried to her. “My little love!”
She sprang to her feet, facing him; her hands went swiftly to her heart, as if a spasm shook her. As Jarvis came toward her, a great light in his face, she put her hands out to fend him off.
“I want you to know that I realize just how silly and cheap and theatrical I’ve been. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she began in a monotone, as if it tired her too much to speak. He tried to stop her, but she shook her head.
“I have to say it all now. I cared so much when you came home that time, and after the first night I thought you didn’t care for me.”
“My best beloved, let me—”
“No, no—please. I was piqued and angry and I thought I could punish you by pretending to be the other woman you thought you were writing to. I wanted to make you care for her, and then—”
“It was you I cared for—you, you, you!”
“I thought that, when you knew I was both of us, you’d be so glad—” She broke off into a sob.
