In the more important case has not he taken her word in preference to mine?
Would not he in _this_ too?
For I know that he knows, as well as I know it myself, that in that matter I lied.
Sometimes, when I am by myself, a mighty yearning--a most constraining longing seizes me to go to him--fall at his feet, and tell him the truth even yet.

After all, God knows that I have no ugly fault to confess to him--no infidelity even of thought.

But as soon as I am in his presence the desire fades; or at least the power to put it in practice melts away.

For he never gives me an opening.

After that first evening never does he draw nigh the subject: never once is the detested name of Musgrave mentioned between us.