He stared at her in amazement, while the color left his cheeks and then rushed again to his temples where the veins stood out like knotted cords. For the moment, he was angry, baffled by the shock of her unexpected answer. Then he mastered himself.
"Do you not love me any longer?" he asked.
"Any longer?" Her tone sought to express haughty disdain; but her eyes drooped before the fire in his own.
"Never mind the words," he said sharply. "In times like this, one can't stop to pick for rhetorical effects. It is enough that I love you with all the manhood there is in me, and that for months I have counted upon winning your love in return. And now—"
She interrupted him.
"And now you have found out your mistake," she said sadly.
"Yes." There was a long interval of silence, before he added, "And is this final?"
"It is." Her stiffened lips could scarcely form the words.
He turned to go away. All the alertness which had marked his coming had dropped away from him. He moved slowly and with drooping shoulders. Already his face had grown haggard underneath the bronzing of his sea voyage. Beatrix stood motionless, watching him, struggling to master herself, to hold herself firmly to her resolve which had been taking shape within her, during all that past winter and spring.
Halfway across the room, Thayer hesitated, turned and came back to her side.