"Look here," he exclaimed roughly, no longer able to disguise his anger; "you've got to stop this everlasting—"
"Let go of my arm, Barry Lapelle!" she cried. "Don't you dare lay your hand on me like that!"
He loosened his grip on her arm and drew back sulkily. "Ah,—I didn't mean to hurt you and you know it. I wouldn't hurt you for anything in the world. I'm sorry if I was rough with—"
"I don't blame you," she broke in, contritely. "I guess it would serve me right if you beat me black and blue."
"What I was going to say," he growled, controlling himself with difficulty, "is this: if you think I'm going to take this as final, you're very much mistaken. You'll get over this, just as you've gotten over your peevishness before. I've spoiled you, that's the truth of the matter. I always give in to you—"
"I tell you I am in earnest," she cried hotly. "This is for good and all,—and you make me furious when you talk like that. I am doing my best to be kind and considerate, so you'd better be careful, Barry Lapelle, not to say too much."
He looked into her flaming eyes for a moment and then muttered slowly, wonderingly: "By heaven, Viola, I believe you DO mean it. You—you are actually throwing me over,—giving me the mitten?"
"I can't help it, Barry," she insisted. "Something,—I don't know what,—has come over me. Nothing seems to be the same as it used to be. I only know that I cannot bear the thought of—why, Barry dear, for the past three or four nights I've lain awake for hours thinking of the awful consequences if we had succeeded in making our escape that night, and had been married as we planned. How terrible it would have been if I had found out too late that I did not love you,—and we were tied to each other for life. For your sake as well as my own, Barry. Can you imagine anything more horrible than to be married to a woman who—who didn't love you?"
"Yes," he snapped, "I can. It's worse a thousand times over not to be married to the girl you love,—and to see her married to some one else. That would be hell,—hell, do you understand?"
She drew a little away from him. "But not the hell it would be for me when I found out—too late. Won't you understand, Barry? Can't you see how terrible it would be?"