She lay motionless on the ground, her face buried in the grass.
"What should you have done in that man's place, Mrs.Fleming ?" I asked.
Then she raised her face; it was whiter, more despairing, more ghastly than I had seen it on the pier.
"I knew it must come," she wailed.

"Oh, Heaven, how often have I dreaded this--I knew from the first." "Then it was you ?" I said.
"It was me," she replied.

"I need not try to hide it any longer, why should I?
Every leaf on every tree, every raindrop that has fallen, every wind that has whispered has told it aloud ever since.

If I hide it from you someone else will start up and tell.

If I deny it, then the very stones in the street will cry it out.