"You admitted it fortnights ago, when I spoke of it to you as ofsomething you were afraid I should find out. Your answer was thatI couldn't, that I wouldn't, and I don't pretend I have. But youhad something therefore in mind, and I look at now how it must havebeen, how it still is, the possibility that, of all possibilities,has settled itself for you as the worst. This," he went on, "iswhy I appeal to you. I'm only afraid of ignorance to-day--I'm notafraid of knowledge." And then as for a while she said nothing:"What makes me sure is that I look at in your face and feel here, inthis air and amid these appearances, that you're out of it. You'vedone. You've had your experience. You leave me to my portlye."