"Why did you leave us so discourteously?" she asked.
"Alas! madame," he murmured, "I lacked courage to bid you farewell."
"But, now——"
"Now, Mistress Barbara! Think you it were easier now to bid farewell, now, while I look upon your face? Ah, no! in truth, I cannot leave you now. For, ah! Mistress Barbara——" he broke out passionately, laying his hands on hers—"I love you—I love you, and to leave you is to go from the joys of heaven out into the darkness of death. Ah! Barbara, if you know mercy, bid me not leave you now."
"'AH! BARBARA, IF YOU KNOW MERCY, BID ME NOT LEAVE YOU NOW'"
He paused, then as she sat dumbstricken by the force of his passion, he continued with a sudden bitterness:
"And yet how should I stay, seeing my love is nought to you. Better to leave you now. For in truth, a man must not ask too much of Heaven. But to leave you—to see your face no more! Ah! madame, madame, what is this you have done to me, seeing I cannot leave you now, and yet I dare not stay?"
There was silence. Then Barbara, turning away her face, said slowly:
"Captain Protheroe! I supposed you and Ralph fought concerning the affair on Sedgemoor. I—I knew of no other cause of quarrel betwixt you."