"Can't you find another rôle for me?" he said. "You will find it difficult to exclude me altogether from the cast."
Something in his tone pierced her, compelled her. She glanced up swiftly, met his eyes, and was suddenly caught, as it were, in fiery chains, so that she could not look away. And there before her the gates of hell opened, and she saw a man's soul in torment. She saw the flames mount higher and higher, scorching and shrivelling and destroying, till at last she could bear the sight no longer. She covered her face with her hands and blotted it out.
"Oh, Nap," she moaned, "if you love me—if you love me—"
"If I love you—" he said.
He put his hand on her shoulder and she trembled from head to foot.
"Prove your love!" she whispered, her face still hidden.
He stood awhile motionless, still with his hand upon her. But at last it fell away.
"You doubt my love then?" he said, and his voice sounded strange to her, almost cold. "You think my love is unworthy of you? You have—lost faith in me?"
She was silent.
"Is it so?" he persisted. "Tell me the truth. I may as well know it. You think—because I am not what Capper would, term a thoroughbred—that I am incapable of love. Isn't that so?"