He stopped again. His own narrative seemed to be waking up something in his mind.
"Why didn't you tell me then that you knew he was in Egypt?" he asked.
She merely raised her eyebrows. Within her now the recklessness was increasing. With it was blent a strange and powerful sensation of fatalism.
"Was it because you hated Isaacson so much?"
"That was it."
"But then--but then, when he was with me, you said that you had brought him. You said that in the temple you had begged him to come. I remember that quite well."
"Do you?" she said.
And fate seemed to her to be moving her lips, to be forming for her each word she said.
"Yes. Why was that? Why did you say that?"
"Don't remember!"
"You don't--?"
He got up slowly out of his chair.
"But the--the strangest thing Isaacson said was this."
He put one hand on the back of the chair, and leaned down a little towards her.
"He said that at last he forced you to let him attend me as a doctor by--by threatening you."
"Oh!"
"By threatening, if you would not, to call in the police authorities."
She said nothing. All he was saying flowed past her like running water. No more than running water did it mean to her. Apparently she had fought and struggled too long, and the revenge of nature upon her was this terrible indifference following upon so much of terror, of strife, of enforced and desperate patience.
"Ruby!"
* * * * * "Ruby!"
"Well?" She looked at him. "What is it?"
"You don't say anything!"
"Why should I? What do you want me to say?"
"Want! I--but--"
He bent down.
"You--you don't think--you aren't thinking that I--?"
"Well?"
"I've told you this to prove my complete trust in you. I've only told you so that there may be nothing between us, no shadow; as even such a thing, hidden, might be."
"Ah!"
"And if there are things I don't understand, I know--they are such trifles in comparison--I know you'll explain. Won't you?"
"Not to-night. I can't explain things to-night."
"No. You're tired out. To-morrow--to-morrow!"
"Ah!" she said again.
He leant right down to her, and took both her hands.
"Come upstairs with me! Come!" She stood up. "Come! I'll prove to you--I'll prove to you--"
There was a sort of desperation of crude passion in his manner.
He tried to draw her towards the house. She resisted him.
"Ruby!"
"I'm not coming."
He stopped.
"Ruby!" he said again, but with a different voice.
"I'm not coming!"
His hands grew cold on hers. He let her hands go. They dropped to her sides.