“Betty, Betty!” he murmured.
“You are a gentleman, and I am alone,” was all she answered.
He was silent a minute. He held her still, softly caressing the hair on her forehead.
“Why, I should be angered if any one called me otherwise,” he said. “And that, maybe, would end in a bullet; and so to prove my claim to the title before the court of final appeal up there. And what could I say?—that Betty trusted me, and that I abused her trust.”
“You will not—no, never.”
“But I am in a very cruel and selfish mood, sweetheart; and I know that you love me—I know it, Betty.”
She forced his hands apart, and stepped back.
“Yes,” she said bravely, “I do; I can’t help it. I would follow you across the world if you called me. But you will not.”
“Not across the world; but this room. Come!”
She went up to him at once; allowed herself to be taken into his arms—to have her lips passionately kissed. Then she drew back once more with bowed head.