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Page 85
"Well?" she said again, more coldly this time. She was quite unable
to understand this attitude of his. She was the injured party. It
was she, not he who had trusted and been betrayed.
"I should like to explain."
"Please do not apologize."
George ground his teeth in the gloom.
"I haven't the slightest intention of apologizing. I said I would
like to explain. When I have finished explaining, you can go."
"I shall go when I please," flared Maud.
This man was intolerable.
"There is nothing to be afraid of. There will be no repetition of
the--incident."
Maud was outraged by this monstrous misinterpretation of her words.
"I am not afraid!"
"Then, perhaps, you will be kind enough to listen. I won't detain
you long. My explanation is quite simple. I have been made a fool
of. I seem to be in the position of the tinker in the play whom
everybody conspired to delude into the belief that he was a king.
First a friend of yours, Mr. Byng, came to me and told me that you
had confided to him that you loved me."
Maud gasped. Either this man was mad, or Reggie Byng was. She
choose the politer solution.
"Reggie Byng must have lost his senses."
"So I supposed. At least, I imagined that he must be mistaken. But a
man in love is an optimistic fool, of course, and I had loved you
ever since you got into my cab that morning . . ."
"What!"
"So after a while," proceeded George, ignoring the interruption, "I
almost persuaded myself that miracles could still happen, and that
what Byng said was true. And when your father called on me and told
me the very same thing I was convinced. It seemed incredible, but I
had to believe it. Now it seems that, for some inscrutable reason,
both Byng and your father were making a fool of me. That's all.
Good night."
Maud's reply was the last which George or any man would have
expected. There was a moment's silence, and then she burst into a
peal of laughter. It was the laughter of over-strained nerves, but
to George's ears it had the ring of genuine amusement.
"I'm glad you find my story entertaining," he said dryly. He was
convinced now that he loathed this girl, and that all he desired
was to see her go out of his life for ever. "Later, no doubt, the
funny side of it will hit me. Just at present my sense of humour is
rather dormant."
Maud gave a little cry.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Mr. Bevan. It wasn't that. It wasn't that
at all. Oh, I am so sorry. I don't know why I laughed. It certainly
wasn't because I thought it funny. It's tragic. There's been a
dreadful mistake!"
"I noticed that," said George bitterly. The darkness began to
afflict his nerves. "I wish to God we had some light."
The glare of a pocket-torch smote upon him.
"I brought it to see my way back with," said Maud in a curious,
small voice. "It's very dark across the fields. I didn't light it
before, because I was afraid somebody might see."
She came towards him, holding the torch over her head. The beam
showed her face, troubled and sympathetic, and at the sight all
George's resentment left him. There were mysteries here beyond his
unravelling, but of one thing he was certain: this girl was not to
blame. She was a thoroughbred, as straight as a wand. She was pure
gold.
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