'What does it mean?'

He looked at her vacantly. Then she told him all that she had done that day and the places to which she had been.

'When you thought she was spending every afternoon with Mrs Bloomfield, she was with that man. She made all the arrangements with the utmost care. It was quite premeditated.'

Arthur sat down and leaned his head on his hand. He turned his back to her, so that she should not see his face. They remained in perfect silence. And it was so terrible that Susie began to cry quietly. She knew that the man she loved was suffering an agony greater than the agony of death, and she could not help him. Rage flared up in her heart, and hatred for Margaret.

'Oh, it's infamous!' she cried suddenly. 'She's lied to you, she's been odiously deceitful. She must be vile and heartless. She must be rotten to the very soul.'

He turned round sharply, and his voice was hard.

'I forbid you to say anything against her.'

Susie gave a little gasp. He had never spoken to her before in anger. She flashed out bitterly.

'Can you love her still, when she's shown herself capable of such vile treachery? For nearly a month this man must have been making love to her, and she's listened to all we said of him. She's pretended to hate the sight of him, I've seen her cut him in the street. She's gone on with all the preparations for your marriage. She must have lived in a world of lies, and you never suspected anything because you had an unalterable belief in her love and truthfulness. She owes everything to you. For four years she's lived on your charity. She was only able to be here because you gave her money to carry out a foolish whim, and the very clothes on her back were paid for by you.'

'I can't help it if she didn't love me,' he cried desperately.

'You know just as well as I do that she pretended to love you. Oh, she's behaved shamefully. There can be no excuse for her.'

He looked at Susie with haggard, miserable eyes.

'How can you be so cruel? For G.o.d's sake don't make it harder.'

There was an indescribable agony in his voice. And as if his own words of pain overcame the last barrier of his self-control, he broke down. He hid his face in his hands and sobbed. Susie was horribly conscience-stricken.

'Oh, I'm so sorry,' she said. 'I didn't mean to say such hateful things.

I didn't mean to be unkind. I ought to have remembered how pa.s.sionately you love her.'

It was very painful to see the effort he made to regain his self-command.

Susie suffered as much as he did. Her impulse was to throw herself on her knees, and kiss his hands, and comfort him; but she knew that he was interested in her only because she was Margaret's friend. At last he got up and, taking his pipe from his pocket, filled it silently. She was terrified at the look on his face. The first time she had ever seen him, Susie wondered at the possibility of self-torture which was in that rough-hewn countenance; but she had never dreamed that it could express such unutterable suffering. Its lines were suddenly changed, and it was terrible to look upon.

'I can't believe it's true,' he muttered. 'I can't believe it.'

There was a knock at the door, and Arthur gave a startled cry.

'Perhaps she's come back.'

He opened it hurriedly, his face suddenly lit up by expectation; but it was Dr Porhoet.

'How do you do?' said the Frenchman. 'What is happening?'

He looked round and caught the dismay that was on the faces of Arthur and Susie.

'Where is Miss Margaret? I thought you must be giving a party.'

There was something in his manner that made Susie ask why.

'I received a telegram from Mr Haddo this morning.'

He took it from his pocket and handed it to Susie. She read it and pa.s.sed it to Arthur. It said:

Come to the studio at five. High jinks.

Oliver Haddo

'Margaret was married to Mr Haddo this morning,' said Arthur, quietly. 'I understand they have gone to England.'

Susie quickly told the doctor the few facts they knew. He was as surprised, as distressed, as they.

'But what is the explanation of it all?' he asked.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders wearily.

'She cared for Haddo more than she cared for me, I suppose. It is natural enough that she should go away in this fashion rather than offer explanations. I suppose she wanted to save herself a scene she thought might be rather painful.'

'When did you see her last?'

'We spent yesterday evening together.'

'And did she not show in any way that she contemplated such a step?'

Arthur shook his head.

'You had no quarrel?'

'We've never quarrelled. She was in the best of spirits. I've never seen her more gay. She talked the whole time of our house in London, and of the places we must visit when we were married.'

Another contraction of pain pa.s.sed over his face as he remembered that she had been more affectionate than she had ever been before. The fire of her kisses still burnt upon his lips. He had spent a night of almost sleepless ecstasy because he had been certain for the first time that the pa.s.sion which consumed him burnt in her heart too. Words were dragged out of him against his will.

'Oh, I'm sure she loved me.'

Meanwhile Susie's eyes were fixed on Haddo's cruel telegram. She seemed to hear his mocking laughter.

'Margaret loathed Oliver Haddo with a hatred that was almost unnatural.

It was a physical repulsion like that which people sometimes have for certain animals. What can have happened to change it into so great a love that it has made her capable of such villainous acts?'

'We mustn't be unfair to him,' said Arthur. 'He put our backs up, and we were probably unjust. He has done some very remarkable things in his day, and he's no fool. It's possible that some people wouldn't mind the eccentricities which irritated us. He's certainly of very good family and he's rich. In many ways it's an excellent match for Margaret.'

He was trying with all his might to find excuses for her. It would not make her treachery so intolerable if he could persuade himself that Haddo had qualities which might explain her infatuation. But as his enemy stood before his fancy, monstrously obese, vulgar, and overbearing, a shudder pa.s.sed through him. The thought of Margaret in that man's arms tortured him as though his flesh were torn with iron hooks.

'Perhaps it's not true. Perhaps she'll return,' he cried.

'Would you take her back if she came to you?' asked Susie.

'Do you think anything she can do has the power to make me love her less?

There must be reasons of which we know nothing that caused her to do all she has done. I daresay it was inevitable from the beginning.'