Stephen went on in her calm, cold voice: 'Did he tell you that I had asked him to marry me ?' Despite herself, as she spoke the words a red tide dyed her face.

It was not a flush; it was not a blush; it was a sort of flood which swept through her, leaving her in a few seconds whiter than before.

Harold saw and understood.

He could not speak; he lowered his head silently.

Her eyes glittered more coldly.