It was disconcerting, but he was glad. Almost at once he realized what a change this thing brought into his life, and the major consequences of it…. First, he would have her—he must have her—he would not live without her. It required no effort of determination to arrive at that decision. To win her, to have her for his own, was now the one important thing in his life. To do so would mean—what would it mean? The Family, dead and living, would be outraged. His father would stand aghast at his impiousness; his mother, class conscious as few of the under dogs are ever class conscious, would refuse to receive this girl as her daughter…. There would be bitterness—but there would be release. By this one step he would break with the Family Tradition and the Family Ghosts. They would cast him out…. But would they cast him out? He was Bonbright Foote VII, crown prince of the dynasty, vested with rights in the family and in the family's property by family laws of primogeniture and entail…. No, he would not be cast out, could not be cast out, for his father would let no sin of his son's stand in the way of a perpetuation of the family. Bonbright knew that if a complete breach opened between his father and himself it must be his hand that opened it. His father's would never do so…. He wondered if he could do so—if, when he was calm, he would desire to do so.
Once he recognized his love he could not be still; office walls could not contain him. He was in a fever to see Ruth with newly opened eyes, with eyes that would see her as they had not seen her in the days before…. He rushed out—to encounter Hangar, and to experience a surging return of rage…. Then he went on, with no aim or purpose but to get rid of the time that must pass before he could see Ruth. It was ten o'clock, and he could not see her until five. Seven hours….
Now she was here, within reach of his hand, her face, not beautiful by day, very lovely to his eyes as the rising moon stretched a ribbon of light across the lake to touch her with its magic glow… and he could not find words to say what must be said.
He had seated her on the bench and now paced up and down before her, struggling to become coherent.
Then words came, a torrent of them, not coherent, not eloquent, but REAL. Ruth recognized the reality in them. "I want you," he said, standing over her. "I didn't know—I didn't realize… until to-day. It's so…. It's been so right along. That's why I had to come to you…. I couldn't get along without seeing you, but I didn't know why…. I thought it was to see you smile. But it was because I had to be near you…. I want to be near you always. This morning I found out—and all day I've waited to see you…. That's all I've done—thought about you and waited. It seems as if morning were years away…. I don't know what I've done all day—just wandered around. I didn't eat—until to-night. I couldn't. I couldn't do anything until I saw you—and told you…. That's why I brought you here…. I wanted to tell you HERE—not back there…. Away from all that. … I can't go on without you—that's what you mean to me. You're NECESSARY—like air or water…. I—Maybe you haven't thought about me this way. I didn't about you…. But you MUST… you MUST!"
It was pitiful. Tears wet Ruth's cheeks and she caught her breath to restrain a rising sob.
He became calmer, gentler. "Maybe I've surprised you," he said. "Maybe I've frightened you—I hope not. I don't mean to frighten you. I don't want you ever to be frightened or worried…. I want to keep all kinds of suffering out of your life if you'll let me. Won't you let me?…" He stood waiting.
"Mr. Foote," she said, presently, "I—" then she stopped. She had intended to tell him about Dulac; that she loved him and had promised to marry him, but she could not utter the words. It would hurt him so to know that she loved another man. She could refuse him without that added pain. "Don't you see," she said, "how impossible it is? It wouldn't do—even if I cared for you."
"If you cared for me," he said, "nothing could make it impossible."
"We belong in different worlds…. You couldn't come down to mine; I wouldn't fit into yours. My world wouldn't have you, and your world wouldn't have me…. Don't you see?"