But she was strong, and greater than her strength was her tenderness.
"Look me in the eyes, dear, while I'm pleading with you. If your love were as great a thing as mine——"
To look in her eyes, he knew, was fatal. One brief struggle and then he caught her in his arms and held her close for a long moment, while he whispered in broken sentences.
"My love! ... if you hadn't said that! You've got to know what my love means ... sacrifice.... This moment ... is mine.... Remember it, dear—as it is ... its terrible sweetness—its sanctity—remember that, too ... because that's the essence of it ... sanctity. God bless you, Moira—whatever happens——"
"Whatever happens?"
As in a daze he straightened and looked around. Then almost roughly broke away from her and rushed to the door, taking up his cap and overcoat on the way.
"Harry——!"
"Good-bye," he called hoarsely as he opened the door and went out.
She rushed after him but he was already running furiously down the stairs into the dark.
"Harry," she called, "Harry—come back!"