"I was waiting--till my turn should come." "Ah!" The fan snapped between her hands; she cast it from her with a movement that was almost violent.
Monck drew back sharply.

With a smile that was grimly cynical he veiled his soul.

"I was a fool, of course, and I am quite aware that my foolishness is nothing to you.

But at least you know now how little cause you have to hate me." She had turned from him and gone to the open window.

She stood there bending slightly forward, as one who strains for a last glimpse of something that has passed from sight.
Monck remained motionless, watching her.