Markham straightened slowly and stood before her, one hand on her arm.
"Olga," he said quietly.
She paused, but she didn't look up at him, and gently she took his fingers from her arm.
"It's a pity—" he stopped again. "What you said was true. You—and
I—one of us has killed the old relation between us."
"Yes," she murmured.
"Can we forget—to-night—"
"No, no," she said. "Never. I know."
"Will you forgive me?"
"There's nothing to forgive."
He shook his head.