"Part?" She looked at him for the first time, and although she had believed she never could look at him again without turning scarlet, there was only terror in her eyes.
"I have been afraid of banishment."
"It was my fault as much as yours."
"I am not so sure. We won't argue that point. Is anything perfect arguable? But if I am to stay in San Francisco I must see you."
"I'll never see you alone again."
"I have no intention of pressing that point! But the open is safe and you must walk with me every day."
"I don't know! Oh—I don't know! And I think that I should tell Howard."
"You will not tell Howard because you are neither cowardly nor cruel. Nor will you ruin a perfect memory that belongs to us alone. You do love me and that is the end of it—or the beginning of God knows what!"
"Love!" She shivered. "Yes, I love you. Why do poets waste so many beautiful words over love? It is the most terrible thing in the world."
"Let us try to forget it for the present," he said harshly. "Forget everything we cannot have—"