She rose and faced him proudly.
"Well, say it!" she cried. "Say that I was foolish enough to love you! That I knew no better than to believe in you, and that I half broke my heart when you forced me to see that you weren't what I thought. Say it, if you like. You can't make me more ashamed of it than I am already!"
"Ashamed—Alice?"
"Yes, ashamed! It humiliates me that I should set my heart on a man that cared so little for me that he set me below his polo-ponies, his bachelor ease, his miserable little self-indulgences! Oh, Jack," she went on, her manner suddenly changing to one of appeal, and the tears starting into her eyes, "why can't you be a man?"
She put her hand on his arm, and he covered it affectionately with one of his while she hurried on.
"Do break away from the life you are living, and do something worthy of you. You are good to everybody else; there's nothing you won't do for others; do this for yourself. Do it for me. You are throwing yourself away, and I have to hear them talk of your debts, and your racing and gambling, and how reckless you are! It almost kills me!"
The full sunniness of his smile came back as he looked down into her earnest face, caressing her hand.
"Dear little woman," he said; "are you sure you have got entirely over being fond of me?"
"I couldn't get over being fond of you. You know it. That's what makes it hurt so."
He raised her hand tenderly, and kissed it. Then he dropped it abruptly, and turned away.