She had given him every chance.

Now, however, she struck and laid bare the worst of his disloyalty.

Feversham flinched, and he did not answer but allowed his silence to consent.

Ethne, however, was just; she was in a way curious too: she wished to know the very bottom of the matter before she thrust it into the back of her mind.
"But yesterday," she said, "you were going to tell me something.

I stopped you to point out the letter-box," and she laughed in a queer empty way.