'It is all over and past,' she said bravely; 'there will be no need to "break her heart" now. You will fulfil all her expectations; you will make her happy and proud—oh, so proud! If men who are tempted to do silly, selfish things would only pause and think of the people who love them!'
Edgell drew her nearer to him.
Maria Stubbs was not looking that way; she really was a most sensible girl, she was entirely absorbed in the pictures.
'I will think of you, then,' he said in a low voice that vibrated with passion, 'when—when I am tempted; but I must be sure of your love, Lucy, or it will be no good; there must be no mistake about it. It must be the real thing; a make-believe, a sham, would never save a man! Tell me if—if at such a time, darling, I may think of you?'
He put the question solemnly, though his lips were smiling, but his eyes were looking down into hers as if they would read her soul.
Lucy's face grew pale and troubled; she knew exactly what his question meant; she felt limp and frightened, dreadfully frightened. Anyone might come into the gallery at any moment, and he was holding her in a grasp of iron and reading her little transparent soul through and through. She could not escape from him.
She had no alternative.
'Yes,' she murmured almost inaudibly; 'you may think of me if—if it will help you.'