"I did not know!" she breathed.
"Forgive me!" he pleaded hoarsely. "I—I am very unfortunate. I offend and anger you! I told you that I should not be able to say what I had to say with credit to myself. Pray forgive me. I meant that though I tried to hide my love, it must have betrayed itself. How could it be otherwise? Stella, have you no other word for me?"
"None," she said, looking away. "I am very sorry. I did not know. But it could not have been. Never."
He stood regarding her, his breath coming in long gasps.
"You mean you never can love me?" he asked.
Stella raised her eyes.
"Yes," she said.
His hand closed over the knife until the back of the blade pressed deeply into the quivering palm.
"Never is—is a long day," he said, hoarsely. "Do not say 'never.' I will be patient; see, I am patient, I am calm now, and will not offend you again! I will be patient and wait; I will wait for years, if you will but give me hope—if you will but try to love me a little!"
Stella's face paled, and her lips quivered.