She came straight up to him, put out her hand. "Indeed I will," she said.
He took her hand, pressed it. Then he drew back with his hands behind him. "You are a good woman," he said. "Good through and through. I want you to help me fight a battle I'm having just now. I thought I'd won it. I haven't. But I will!"
"I understand, I think. It is hard. But you are strong and honorable. You— The woman— She is already—" She paused, looked at him inquiringly.
"Yes—God help me!" he cried, turning away.
His cry could not have reached a more responsive heart. After a pause she said: "If she doesn't love you, it'd be useless to tell her."
"Worse! It would mean I was a cur."
"And if she does love you, it'd be wicked to tell her—to add to her unhappiness."
"If you were in my place— Suppose I could be with her—could go and live near her——"
"Oh, no; you oughtn't to do that! You ought to spare yourself and her that."
"But suppose," he urged eagerly, "suppose she didn't care for me—never would—and I could keep my secret——"