“You going away—where to?” he asked surprised.
“I have work to do in connection with my father's case,” she said.
“You?” said Jefferson puzzled. “You have work to do—what work?”
“I can't say what it is, Jefferson. There are good reasons why I can't. You must take my word for it that it is urgent and important work.” Then she added: “You go your way, Jefferson; I will go mine. It was not our destiny to belong to each other. You will become famous as an artist. And I—”
“And you—” echoed Jefferson.
“I—I shall devote my life to my father. It's no use, Jefferson—really—I've thought it all out. You must not come back to me—you understand. We must be alone with our grief—father and I. Good-bye.”
He raised her hand to his lips.
“Good-bye, Shirley. Don't forget me. I shall come back for you.”