"No
woman of your kind could love a man like me."
"Those men!" she said, in a way that made him writhe.
"Wait until I--think. I must think."
"You can't think now, and neither can I."
"We must." He wrung his hands. "They'll never believe me--" There
was a long silence.
"Perhaps in the morning we can see a way out."
"That's it." He nodded. "You go to bed and I'll think. I'm trying
to think now, but this heat is suffocating me and my head is
tired." He brushed a hand feebly across his brow. "If it would
only rain I--could think better."
"Yes, and we must think of Anthony, too. No matter how you blame
me, you must realize that he was innocent, and perhaps, after all,
he is the one that you wronged deepest. He will have to meet those
men, and they were his friends."
Despite the breathless oppression of the night, she shivered. "_I_
never can meet them now, and I don't see how you will dare to,
knowing that you were wrong."
"Don't!" he pleaded. "The other was bad enough, but this--Tell me
what to do!"
"I can't. I don't know myself. All I can see is that those men
will never cease to believe, no matter what you tell them." She
groped her way to the window, but there was no relief even in the
open air.
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