"Harry, Harry, don't be cruel! You'll ruin me, Harry. If you love me, go—if you love me."
Even now he hardly fathomed her distress, but she had made him understand that this spot and this time were too dangerous.
"Tell me where I can see you safely," he asked, almost demanded.
"You can see me safely—nowhere."
"Nowhere? You mean that you won't——"
"Harry, come here a minute—there—no closer. I just want to be able to touch your hair. Go away, dear—yes, I said 'dear.' Do please go away. You—you won't be any happier afterward for having—if—if you don't go away."
He stood irresolutely still. Her fingers lightly touched his hair, and then her arm dropped at her side. He saw a tear run down her cheek. Suddenly his own face turned crimson.
"I'm—I'm very sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean——"
"Good-night. I'm going in."
She held out her hand. Again he bent and kissed it, and, as he did so, he felt the light touch of her lips among his hair.