"Of myself. Life is so terrible—so full of meaning. I'm afraid—yes, afraid of you, too. Somewhere deep in me I have a conscience. To-day you appeal to me. You have put things so clearly—things I have thought but have never dared speak of. To-day you seem to be the only solution of my troubles——"
"Let me solve them then."
"Wait. To-day you almost seem to be the only man in the world—almost, but not quite. I'm not sure of you—nor sure of myself. You point a way to freedom from this—perhaps a worse slavery would await me there. Suppose I married you——"
"Don't marry me then," he broke in wildly. "What is marriage? A word for a social obligation which no one denies. But why insist on it? The real obligation is a moral one and needs no rites to make it binding. I love you. What does it matter whether——"
His meaning dawned on her slowly, and she turned in his arms, her eyes widening with bewilderment as she looked as though fascinated by the horror she read in his words. He felt her body straighten in his arms and saw that the blood had gone from her face.
"Do I startle you? Don't look so strangely. You are the only woman in the world. I am mad about you. You know that? Can't you see? Look up at me, Camilla. There's a girl in the East they want me to marry—of an old line with money—but I swear I'll never marry her. Never!"
Slowly she disengaged his arms and put the chair between them. There was even a smile on her lips. "You mean—that I—that you——" She paused, uncertain of her words.
"That I'll stick to you until Kingdom Come," he assented.
Her laugh echoed harshly in the bare room. "Whether you marry the other girl or not?"
"I'll never marry the other girl," he said savagely, "never see her again if you say so——"