"I cannot read in your heart. If you still love me, it is a pity; I can give you no love in return."
He drew nearer, and looked at her despairingly.
"Cecily! when I came last night, I had a longing to throw myself at your feet, and tell you all my misery—everything, and find strength again with your help. I never feared this. You, who are all love and womanliness, you cannot have put me utterly from your heart!"
"I am your wife still; but I ask nothing of you, and you must not seek for more than I can give."
"Well, I too ask for nothing, But I will prove—"
She checked him.
"Don't forget your philosophy. We both of us know that it is idle to make promises of that kind."
"You will leave London with me?"
"I shall go wherever you wish."
"Then we will make our home again in Paris. The sooner the better. A few days, and we will get rid of everything except what we wish to take with us. I don't care if I never see London again."