That other man--the one for whom she had told him she once cared--held those! Trenby was not given to psychological analysis, but in a blind, bewildered fashion he felt that that thing of wood and ivory and stretched strings represented in concrete form everything that stood betwixt himself and Nan.
"Have I nothing else--_no one else_"-- significantly---"to be jealous of ?" he demanded.

"Answer me!" With a swift movement he gripped her by the shoulder, forcing her to face him again, his eyes still stormy.

She winced involuntarily under the pressure of his fingers, but forced herself to answer him.
"You know," she said quietly.

"I told you when you asked me to be your wife that--that there was--someone--for whom I cared.

But, if you believed _all_ I told you then--you know, too, that you have no reason to be jealous." "You mean because you can't marry him ?"--moodily.
"Yes." The brief reply acted like a spark to tinder.