The color faded from her lips; a cloud came over the
clear, dove-like eyes; she tried to answer, but the words died
away in a faint murmur.
"Do you deny that you were there?" he asked. "Remember, I saw
you, and I saw him. Do you deny it?"
"No," she replied.
"Who was it?" he cried; and his eyes flamed so angrily upon her
that she was afraid. "Tell me who it was. I will follow him to
the world's end. Tell me."
"I can not, Lionel," she whispered; "I can not. For pity's sake,
keep my secret!"
"You need not be afraid," he said, haughtily. "I shall not
betray you to Lord Earle. Let him find out for himself what you
are, as I have done. I could curse myself for my own trust. Who
is he?"
"I can not tell you," she stammered, and he saw her little white
hands wrung together in agony. "Oh, Lionel, trust me--do not be
angry with me."
"You can not expect me," he said, although he was softened by the
sight of her sorrow, "to know of such an action and not to speak
of it, Lillian. If you can explain it, do so. If the man was an
old lover of yours, tell me so; in time I may forget the deceit,
if you are frank with me now.
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