His hand was clenched.

"You women!" he said, and for some reason Olga felt overwhelmingly foolish.
"Well, finish!" he commanded.

"No half-measures, mind! Just the whole truth!" And Olga stumbled on.

She repeated with quivering lips Hunt-Goring's story of the taint in Violet's blood, of the tragedy that had preceded her birth.
"Nick," she said, turning piteous eyes upon his face, "I know it must be partly true, but do you think it is really quite as bad as that?
I believed it at the time.

But--but--perhaps--" He shook his head.