"I leave it to you to deal with
your husband as seems best to you."
"Other people," she faltered, "would recognize you!"
"Do me the favor," he begged her, "to look at me carefully for several
moments. You doubtless have some imperfect recollection of what I was.
Compare it with my present appearance! I venture to think that you
will agree with me. Recognition is barely possible."
Again there was silence. Lady Ruth seemed to have no words, but there
was the look of a frightened child upon her face.
"I am sorry," he continued, "that the idea does not appeal to you! I
can understand that my presence may serve to recall a period which you
and your husband would doubtless prefer to forget--"
"Stop!"
A little staccato cry of pain; a cry which seemed to spring into life
from a tortured heart, broke from her lips. Aynesworth heard it, and,
at that moment, he hated his employer. Wingrave paused for a moment
politely, and then continued.
"But after all," he said, "I can assure you that you will find very
little in the Mr. Wingrave of New York to remind you of the past. I
shall do my utmost to win for myself a place in your esteem, which
will help you to forget the other relationship, which, if my memory
serves me, used once to exist between us!"
She raised her head. Either she realized that, for the present, the
man was immune against all sentiment, or his calm brutality had had a
correspondingly hardening effect upon her.
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