"I cannot," she said, in a low voice. "You—you do not understand. One cannot teach oneself to love—cannot try. It is impossible. Besides—you do not know what you ask. You do not understand!"
"Do I not?" he said, and a bitter sneer curled the thin lips. "I do understand. I know—I have a suspicion of the reason why you answer me like this."
Stella's face burnt for a moment, then went pale, but her eyes met his steadily.
"There is something behind your refusal; no girl would speak as you do unless there was something behind. There is someone else. Am I not right?"
"You have no right to ask me!" said Stella, firmly.
"My love gives me the right to ask. But I need not put the question, and there is no necessity for you to answer. If you have been blind, I have not. I have seen and noted, and I tell you, I tell you plainly, that what you hope for cannot be. I say cannot—shall not be!" he added, between his closed teeth.
Stella's eyes flashed as she stood before him glorious in her loveliness.
"Have you finished?" she asked.
He was silent, regarding her watchfully.