Wingrave rose to his feet, still and grave.

“Aynesworth,” he said, “this interview does not interest me.  Let us bring it to an end.  I admit that I have made a great failure of my life.  I admit that I have failed in realizing the ambitions I once confided to you.  I came out from prison with precisely those intentions, and I was conscious of nothing in myself or my nature to prevent my carrying them out.  It seems that I was mistaken.  I admit all this, but I do not admit your right to force yourself into my presence and taunt me with my failure.  You served me well enough, but you were easily hoodwinked, and our connection is at an end.  I have only one thing to say to you.  I am leaving this part of the world altogether.  I shall not return.  That child has some foolish scruples about taking any more of my money.  That arises through your confounded interference.  She is poor, almost in want.  If you should fail her now—­”

Aynesworth interrupted with a hoarse little laugh.

“Wingrave,” he said, “are you playing the simpleton?  If Juliet will not take your money, why should she take mine?”

Wingrave came out from his place.  He was standing now between Aynesworth and the door.

“Aynesworth,” he said, “do I understand that you are not going to marry the child?”

“I?  Certainly not!” Aynesworth answered.

Wingrave remained quite calm, but there was a terrible light in his eyes.

“Now, for the first time, Aynesworth,” he said, “I am glad that you are here.  We are going to have a complete understanding before you leave this room.  Juliet Lundy, as my ward, was, I believe, contented and happy.  It suited you to disturb our relations, and your excuse for doing so was that you loved her.  You took her away from me, and now you say that you do not intend to marry her.  Be so good as to tell me what the devil you do mean!”

Aynesworth laughed a little bitterly.

“You must excuse me,” he said, “but a sense of humor was always my undoing, and this reversal of our positions is a little odd, isn’t it?  I am not going to marry Juliet Lundy because she happens not to care for me in that way at all.  My appearance is scarcely that of a joyous lover, is it?”

Wingrave eyed him more closely.  Aynesworth had certainly fallen away from the trim and carefully turned out young man of a few months back.  He was paler, too, and looked older.

“I do not understand this,” Wingrave said.

“I do!” Aynesworth answered bitterly.  “There is someone else?”

“Someone whom I do not know about?” Wingrave said, frowning heavily.  “Who is he, Aynesworth?”

Aynesworth shrugged his shoulders.  He said nothing.  Wingrave came a step nearer to him.

“You may as well tell me.” he said quietly, “for I shall postpone my journey until I know the whole truth.”

“It is not my secret,” Aynesworth answered.  “Ask her yourself!”