"I hope you understand that everything's over between us. Our acquaintance is at an end."
"My feelings toward you can never change," replied Underwood earnestly. "I love you—I shall always love you."
Alicia gave a little shrug of her shoulders, expressive of utter indifference.
"Love!" she exclaimed mockingly. "You love no one but yourself."
Underwood advanced nearer to her and there was a tremor in his voice as he said:
"You have no right to say that. You remember what we once were. Whose fault is it that I am where I am to-day? When you broke our engagement and married old Jeffries to gratify your social ambition, you ruined my life. You didn't destroy my love—you couldn't kill that. You may forbid me everything—to see you—to speak to you—even to think of you, but I can never forget that you are the only woman I ever cared for. If you had married me, I might have been a different man. And now, just when I want you most, you deny me even your friendship. What have I done to deserve such treatment? Is it fair? Is it just?"
Alicia had listened with growing impatience. It was only with difficulty that she contained herself. Now she interrupted him hotly:
"I broke my engagement with you because I found that you were deceiving me—just as you deceived others."
"It's a lie!" broke in Underwood. "I may have trifled with others, but I never deceived you."
Alicia rose and, crossing the room, carelessly inspected one of the pictures on the wall, a study of the nude by Bouguereau.