He stretched out his hand, but she drew back a step.
"God forgive me! but I have no such love for you."
A ghastly smile broke over his face, and, after a moment, the snowy handkerchief he passed across his lips was stained with ruby streaks.
"I know that, and I know the reason. But, once more, I ask you to give me your hand. Electra, dearest, do not, I pray you, refuse me this. Oh, child! give me your hand, and in time you will learn to love me."
He seized her fingers, and stooped his head till the silky brown beard mingled with her raven locks.
"Mr. Clifton, to marry without love would be a grievous sin; I dare not. We would hate each other. Life would be a curse to both, and death a welcome release. Could you endure a wife who accepted your hand from gratitude and pity? Oh! such a relationship would be horrible beyond all degree. I shudder at the thought."
"But you would learn to love me."
"But you cannot take Russell's place. None can come between him and my heart."
"Electra Grey, you are unwomanly in your unsought love."
"Unwomanly! If so, made such by your unmanliness. Unwomanly! Were you more manly, I had never shocked your maudlin sentiments of propriety."