"I won't, then," she answered pityingly.
Her eyes scalded with tears. Her hands, locked hard together, were trembling.
There was a long pause.
"Sophy," he said presently, very low, his hand still over his eyes, "how if I take an oath to you never to drink again?"
She looked with a tender, wise look at his hidden face.
"You would come to hate me for it in the end, dear."
"Oh ... Sophy...."
"Yes, dear. You would."
"I know.... You think I couldn't keep it," he said miserably.
"No. But if you kept it, you would be hating me all the time."