"The future is too near us. Say you'll marry me, or else I shall lose you altogether. It is the one influence on our side."
She was born, he said, under two great influences, but each could be modified; one might be widened, the other lessened, and both modifications might finally resolve into her destiny. So far as he could read her future, it centred in him or another. That other, he was sure, was not Sir Owen, nor was it himself, he thought; for when she and he had met in the theatre, she had experienced no dread, but he had dreaded her, recognising her as his destiny. He had even recognised her as Evelyn Innes before she had been pointed out to him.
"But you had seen my photograph?"
"But it was not by your photograph that I knew you."
"And you knew that I should care for you?"
"I knew that something had to happen. But you did not feel that I was your destiny. You said you experienced no dread, but when you met Sir Owen did you experience none?"
"I suppose I did. I was afraid of him. At first I think I hated him."
"Ah, Evelyn, we shall not marry—it is not our fate. You see that you cannot say you will marry me. Another fate is beckoning you."
"Who is it who beckons me? Have I already met him?"
He fell to dreaming again, and Evelyn asked him vainly to describe this other man.