"No—no—you must not say that! Don't say any more!"
"Ethel—!" came hoarsely again, despite her entreaty; and she could feel the shaking of the gate against which he leant.
"No—no—" she repeated. "Not now—not any more. I must not let you say what you will be sorry for by-and-by. Don't—please! I think I am glad we have had this talk, because—because I shall understand. We will never speak of it again. By-and-by we shall be—friends—like other people."
There was a negative movement on his part.
"Yes—I think so. You have to do what is right—about—and we will be brave—we shall be helped. Doesn't God always help, if—if one wills to do right? Perhaps a little hard for you—for us—at first, but that won't last. It will be all right."
Ethel could not bear much more. She had kept up well so far; but reaction was at hand. The interview had to be ended; and the sooner the better.
"I must not stay!" she said. And then, without warning, unexpectedly, she broke down. "Nigel—let me go!" she sobbed.
Nigel mastered himself for her sake. "I have been wrong—unkind!" he said. "It has been too much for you."
"Oh no; only I can't bear to see you so unhappy. Please—please let me go."
"I shall see you again soon. This isn't really—" and a falter. "Yes, we will be—friends."