"I couldn't."
"But you had no right to involve me, sir. But there, I won't reproach you. She won't give you up; you will have to keep your word, that's all."
She spoke with infinite sadness.
"You have loved me, anyway, and that's a great deal. I ought to be thankful for that, I suppose," she continued.
They were sheltered now from the observation of every one,—but Barry from the ship,—and she put her handkerchief up to her eyes and sobbed out the following in broken sentences:
"I've thought it out all night long, Richard. You saved that girl's life; she has a claim on you. I know she loves you deeply; and of course she won't give you up. I—I wouldn't myself," she wailed. "I hope you will be very hap—hap—happy with her and—you will forget all about this. Oh, Dick, Dick!"
"My heavens! Emily, you nearly drive me distracted! I tell you I couldn't be happy with an arch-angel if she were not you! She must give me up! She shall! I don't really suppose she will hesitate a moment. Why, if she could see you she would know in a glance that I could not help falling in love with you."
"Probably she thinks she's as nice as I am," she continued, through her tears. "She would look upon me as an ignorant little country girl. She would wonder how you could possibly fall in love with me. I wonder about it myself. You do love me, don't you?" anxiously.
"Of course I do. I have told you a thousand times, and I mean it! I mean it more every time I tell you, and I want to tell you more every time I see you. I won't marry Josephine Remington, and that's all there is about it!"
"You must!" decisively.