In such a moment as this, any woman drops the cloak and stands out, limbs free, to win her own.
"Is it about yourself ?" she repeated.
Another suspicion now that he was married--engaged--bound in some way from which there was no escape--was throbbing, like the flickering shadow that a candle casts, in a deeply-hidden corner of her mind.

She dared not let it advance, dared not let it become a palpable fear, yet there it was.

And all this time, Traill was looking at her with steady eyes, behind which the pendulum was once more set a-swinging.
Should he tell her, should he not?
Should he rip out the knife that would cut this knot which circumstances seemed to be tying?
"You want to know exactly what it is," he said suddenly.

"Then it's this.

I'm not the type of man who marries.