"And what shall you do now?"
"There is only one thing. I shall go to India again. Of course it is just the same to me as though I were told that sentence of death had gone against me;—only it will not be so soon over."
"Don't say that, Walter."
"Why not say it, my dear, when I feel it?"
"But you don't feel it. I know it must be bad for you, but it is not quite that. I will not think that you have nothing left worth living for."
"I can't ask you to go with me to that happy Paradise."
"But I can ask you to take me," she said;—"though perhaps it will be better that I should not."
"My darling!—my own darling!" Then she came back to him and laid her head upon his shoulders, and lifted his hand till it came again round her waist. And he kissed her forehead, and smoothed her hair. "Swear to me," she said, "that whatever happens you will not put me away from you."
"Put you away, dearest! A man doesn't put away the only morsel he has to keep him from starving. But yet as I came up here this morning I resolved that I would put you away."
"Walter!"