"But it shouldn't be the truth."
"But it is the truth. I couldn't do it. I should ruin myself and you too, and we should never be happy."
"I should be happy,—very happy indeed." At this moment the poor girl's tears were unaffected, and her words were not artful. For a minute or two her heart,—her actual heart,—was allowed to prevail.
"It cannot be, Amelia. Will you not say good-by?"
"Good-by," she said, leaning against him as she spoke.
"I do so hope you will be happy," he said. And then, putting his arm round her waist, he kissed her; which he certainly ought not to have done.
When the interview was over, he escaped out into the crescent, and as he walked down through the squares,—Woburn Square, and Russell Square, and Bedford Square,—towards the heart of London, he felt himself elated almost to a state of triumph. He had got himself well out of his difficulties, and now he would be ready for his love-tale to Lily.