"Am I to believe my eyes ?" She roused herself to speak by an effort.
"Oh, Reginald!" she cried, "what have you done! Why, why did you go there ?" There was dismay in her tone, consternation in her face, but nothing else.

No shame, no guilt, no confusion--nothing but that look of grief and regret.
A conviction that had possessed him all along that it was all right, somehow or other, became stronger than ever now; but his face did not show it--perhaps, unconsciously, in his secret heart he was hoping it would not be all right.
"Perhaps I was unfortunate in going there," he said, coldly; "but I assure you I had very little idea of what I was to see and hear.

Having heard, and having seen, I am afraid I must insist on an explanation." "Which I cannot give you," said Kate, her colour rising, and looking steadfastly in his dark eyes.
"You cannot give me!" said Reginald, haughtily.

"Do I understand you rightly, Kate ?" She laid her hand on his, with a gentle, caressing touch, and bent forward.

She loved him too deeply and tenderly to bear that cold, proud tone.
"We have never quarrelled yet, Reginald," she said, sweetly.