"No; I just saw it for myself, after talking with him."
Billy became conscious of the rigor of his hands and he relaxed his grasp of her. "You've made me perfectly sure what I must do, Marjorie. I knew you'd been—deteriorating under this terrible strain. It had to damage you; no one could stop that; but I can stop the damage from keeping on. Therefore, when your mother comes in, I shall end this deceit and concealment."
"You mean"
"I shall tell her."
Marjorie threw herself forward so quickly that she freed herself from his hands but only to seize the lapels of his coat with both her own. "No, you won't!" She fought him and tried, with her small strength, to shake him. "You won't; not now after I've lied to Mr. Stanway to-day and beaten him and got him off; and after I've seen Rinderfeld and—and after everything else I've done. You shan't tell her. Not now have not said, you can always say, Billy; but when you've said it, you can never take it back. So tell me you won't; tell me you won't; tell me" Her voice suddenly was gone; her strength, which she had gathered all together in the attack of her hands on him, also was gone; her arms dropped; her head fell forward and she gasped and choked, deadly sick; so Billy grasped her, calling her name and crying for help in his alarm.
"No," she whispered. "No." She managed to motion to forbid him calling in a servant. "I'm all right."
"Marjorie!" he besought her, in his fright. "What have I done? What can I do for you? Tell me!"
"Go!" she whispered. "Go, Billy; just go! Leave me alone! Don't do anything but—go!"
