She shook her head and replied quietly:
"No—what is it? Don't you love me any more?"
"Love has nothing to do with it," he said, as gently as he could in the irritating circumstances. "My mysterious destiny has—"
"You said that before," she interrupted. "What is it? Can't you tell me so that I can understand?"
"You never loved me!" he cried bitterly.
"You know that isn't so," she answered. "Won't you tell me, Carl?"
"A specter has risen from my past—I must leave you—I may never return—"
She gave a low, wailing cry—it seemed like an echo of the music. Then she began to sob—not loudly, but in a subdued, despairing way. She was not conscious of her grief, but only of his words—of the dream vanished, the hopes shattered.
"Never?" she said brokenly.
"Never!" he replied in a hoarse whisper.