"You cannot surely refuse me? I have my reasons for desiring to know
the very worst."
"Why drive me to that?" I schooled myself to seem hard and
uncompromising. I felt I was weakening under the subtle charm of her
presence, and the pretty pleading of her violet eyes; but I was still
resolute not to give way.
"If you will only tell me why you think such evil I may be able to
justify myself, or at least explain away appearances that are against
me."
"You admit there are such appearances? Remember, I never said so."
"Then on what do you condemn me? You do condemn me, I am certain of
it," she insisted, seeing my gesture of negation. "Are you treating
me fairly, chivalrously, as a gentleman and a man of honour should?
How can you reconcile it to your conscience?"
"Some people talk very lightly of conscience, or use it when it is an
empty meaningless word," I said severely.
"You imply that I have no conscience, or that I should feel the
qualms, the prickings of conscience?"
"After what you've done, yes," I blurted out.
"What have I done? What do you know of it, or what led me to do it?
How dare you judge me without knowing the facts, without a shadow of
proof?" She sprang to her feet and passed to the door, where she
turned, as it were, at bay.
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