"And yet I did take her money," says he miserably; "I wish to heaven now I hadn't. Then it seemed a fair exchange—her money for my title; it is done every day, and no one thinks anything of it—but now—— It was a most cursed thing," says he.
"It would have been nothing—nothing," says Margaret eagerly, "if you had been heart-whole. But to marry her, loving another, that was wrong—unpardonable——"
"Unpardonable!" He looks at her with a start. What does she mean? Is he beyond pardon, indeed? Pardon from—— "That's all over," says he.
"It wasn't over then!"
"I don't know——" He gets up and walks to the window in an agitated fashion, and then back again. "Margaret, I don't believe I ever loved her."
Margaret stares at him.
"You are talking of Marian?"
"Yes; Marian. If I did love her, then there is no such thing as love—love the eternal—because I love her no longer."
"It is not that," says Margaret; "but love can be killed. Poor love!" she sighed. "Marian of her own accord has killed yours."
There is a long pause; then: "Well, I'm glad of it," says he.