She shrank away again and without waiting for her answer, he turned—the light gone from his face—and reached for his hat.
“Don’t go; don’t go,” she begged. “There are things I want to say to you,”—but this time he did not let false hopes beguile him.
“Good-by,” he said gruffly, and walked to the door.
As he passed her she slipped round the sofa and came after him:
“It mustn’t be good-by. Say good night. I won’t let you say good-by.”
“It’s good-by this time, young woman,” he said grimly. “Good-by for keeps.”
She laid her hand on his arm and that stopped him. With an air of enforced patience he stood, his face turned from her, waiting. For a moment she did not speak, and he said:
“Come, what is it? If it’s that I’m to dangle round as I’ve been doing for the past two months, let’s not waste time over that; I’m not that kind of a man. There’s too much for me to do to waste my time and thoughts hanging round a girl who’s only fooling with me.”
“I was not fooling,” she said humbly; “I meant it all.”
“Evidently we didn’t both mean the same thing.”