Besides, I can't imagine." He went on with her in silence; he was much more affected by what she had told him than appeared.

Ever since that evening of his return from Newport her image had had a terrible power to trouble him.

What Clifford Wentworth had told him--that had affected him, too, in an adverse sense; but it had not liberated him from the discomfort of a charm of which his intelligence was impatient.

"She is not honest, she is not honest," he kept murmuring to himself.

That is what he had been saying to the summer sky, ten minutes before.