I was so light of heart, and now--your eyes, your silence.

Oh, speak, lord Marcian!' 'I have hidden the truth so long because I knew not how to utter it.
Veranilda, Basil is false to you.' Her hands fell; her eyes grew wider in wonder.

She seemed not to understand what she had heard, and to be troubled by incomprehension rather than by a shock of pain.
'False to me ?' she murmured.

'How false ?' 'He loves another woman, and for her sake has turned to the Greeks.' Still Veranilda gazed wonderingly.
'Things have come to pass of which you know nothing,' pursued Marcian, forcing his voice to a subdued evenness, a sad gravity.

'Listen whilst I tell you all.