"I think not of you, but of myself, and of how I may keep my promise to your father and survive. If you see me, and can talk to me, I shall live honorably. Will you shake hands?" He held out his right hand. She ignored it. He deliberately took hers and led her to a chair. "Will you do what I ask, dear?" he entreated, humbly.
"No!" She stood there, cold, disdainful, refusing everything—even to sit down.
"Then," he said, tensely, "then I must—" He seized her in his arms and kissed her unresponsive lips. "I am not making love to you," he murmured. "I am not!" And he kissed her again. "I promised not to see you; and I won't—not even if you see me."
He released her and was silent. She looked up and saw that his eyes were tightly closed.
"I'll be there," she said, triumphantly, "at one o'clock."
"I am a man of my word!" he said, fiercely.
"Every day!" she added, with decision.
She did not know that this wifelike attitude thrilled him as not even the kisses had; but he said, earnestly:
"No. I'm going now. It's good-by for a month. For a whole month!"
"Northeast corner table," she said, audibly, as though to herself. "Northeast cor—"