“Oh, don’t—don’t just trifle with me! You are the only man who has ever understood: the only man who has ever....” She could not go on, but her eyes and quivering mouth mutely besought him to say what she longed to hear.
“Who has ever loved you?”
The tears filled her eyes again.
“Since you’re only a—a vagabond, and I don’t know you—and you will go away like—like a make-believe prince—it couldn’t be very wrong for you to say you love me—just once? I’ll never have anything real, so can’t we just pretend?”
“Just pretend—you think? No. It couldn’t be very wrong for you to hear me say just once that I love you. Only don’t repent to-morrow that you heard love to-night from the lips of a vagabond.”
“Love will never come again,” sadly.
“I tell you it will. The very same love will come—not as a vagabond in the night, but a love that you can accept.”
“Will it really come again?” wistfully.
“Yes. Now—good-night and good-bye.”
“Good-bye?” blankly. “You are going now? Oh—where?”