"You must be in earnest, as I am, my dear," he said, very calmly and gently. "You must not play with a man's life and heart, as though they were worth nothing but play. You called me cruel, dear, a moment ago. But you are more cruel than I, for I do not hesitate."
"I must go," she repeated, still avoiding his look. "Yes, I must go. I should die without you."
"But to-morrow when I come, you will hesitate again," he said, still speaking very quietly. "I must be sure. You must give me some promise, something more than you have given me yet."
She looked up with startled eyes.
"You do not believe me?" she asked. "What shall I do? I—I promise! You yourself have never said that you promised."
"Does it need that?" He pressed the hand he held, with softly increasing strength, between his palms.
"No," she answered, looking at him. "I can see it. You will do what you say. I have promised, too."
He gazed incredulously into her face.
"Do you doubt me?" she asked.
"Have I not reason to doubt? You change your mind easily. I do not blame you. But how am I to believe?"