"Not yet. There's no hurry. I must know about the ship; and you must listen to me. When I come back, if I have carried out my trust faithfully—then—"
"No—I am not going to listen."
"You must! You don't know what I want to say."
Jean laid her hand resolutely across Cyril's mouth.
"No—hush—I will not!" she repeated. "You are to say no more! . . . What of that poor little Miss Lucas? You see—I know! I dare say you have meant no harm—and you are doing this kindness to my father, so I must not blame you—but there cannot be any playing fast and loose. What you do is for his sake—your sake—anything you like, only not to do with me!"
Cyril removed her hand from his mouth, and kept it prisoner. He had merely meant to give her a gentle hint as to his hopes; but now there seemed to be no choice about speaking out; now he could not restrain himself. It might be the last chance for two years or more.
"You needn't be afraid, Jean. I'm not doing what is wrong. You don't understand how things are, and I want to make you understand! . . . I've been a fool, and I don't deny it! She has not suffered—she doesn't care a rap for me! Yes, I know—for she won't have me . . . I suppose it was a sort of craze. I did think I wanted her; and I was demented enough to speak—and then I found out! I shall not forget what it was—to feel that I had put a barrier between you and me for life! It was—awful . . . I seem to have lived through ten years yesterday. Till her answer came, I mean! . . . You see—I'm hiding nothing from you! And you can think what you like—despise me, if you like—But if ever I marry, you will be my wife! You—and nobody else."
"Are you going to keep me much longer?"
"Not if you will stay without being kept. I'm not asking you to say anything now. It wouldn't be fair. I can't expect you to believe in me yet. Only, by-and-by, when I come back—when you find out that I am the same—that I shall always be the same—don't you think—? No, I'm not asking you to speak, really! You shall give me an answer in two years. I'm only telling you how things are . . . You are entirely free—only, when I come back, Jean, I shall ask you to be mine! And if you won't—But I can't let myself think of that! Life wouldn't be life without you! Till then I shall live on hope. And your face will be with me always—night and day. You'll think of me sometimes—won't you?"
"You want to know the name of my father's ship," said Jean.