"I was out of my head, Roger. Tell me that I was, for the love of God. I must have been. It was horrible. I did not know. I can scarcely remember now. Death would have been better—for her, for me—than that. My God! If only you had told me, something. I could have gone away, I think—before—But to have knowledge come like that, engulfing, flooding, drowning with its terrible bitterness. And Marcia—" He raised his head piteously, "I asked her to marry me, Roger—at once. But she only looked at me with strange eyes.
"'Marriage!' she said, 'My God!' It was almost as though I had uttered a sacrilege.
"I pleaded with her gently, but she shook me off. A fearful change had come over her. She drew away and looked at me with alien eyes.
"'Marriage!' she repeated. 'You!'
"'Marry me tomorrow, Marcia—'
"She thrust her naked arms in front of her, their tatters flying, the rags of her honor.
"'Oh, God! How I loathe you!'
"'Marcia!'
"'Go away from me. Go!'
"She put her arm before her eyes as though to shut out the sight of me.