for doing what I have done. By Jove! that accounts for Maisie's running away. She must have thought me perfectly mad—small blame to her! The whole picture ruined, isn't it so? What made you do it?'
'Because I was that angry. I'm not angry now—I'm awful sorry.'
'I wonder.—It doesn't matter, anyhow. I'm to blame for making the mistake.'
'What mistake?'
'Something you wouldn't understand, dear. Great heavens! to think that a little piece of dirt like you could throw me out of my stride!' Dick was talking to himself as Bessie tried to shake off his grip on her wrist.
'I ain't a piece of dirt, and you shouldn't call me so! I did it 'cause I hated you, and I'm only sorry now 'cause you're—'cause you're—'
'Exactly—because I'm blind. There's nothing like tact in little things.'
Bessie began to sob. She did not like being shackled against her will; she was afraid of the blind face and the look upon it, and was sorry too that her great revenge had only made Dick laugh.
'Don't cry,' he said, and took her into his arms. 'You only did what you thought right.'
