"It is also your right to know that I have always tried to live a pure and honorable life. I have never told any woman but you that I loved her—except an elderly cousin with whom I thought I was in love when I was nineteen. She cured me of it by laughing at me, and I have been heart-whole ever since."
She raised her eyes from reading the letter.
"You have all these, and I have nothing." She spread out her hands helplessly. "It must seem strange to you that I am in this situation. It does to me. It is awful."
She put her hands over her eyes and shuddered.
"It is to save you from it all that I have come." He leaned over and spoke tenderly, "Darling!"
"Oh, wait!" She caught her breath as if it hurt her, and put out her hand to stop him, "Wait! You must not say any more until I have told you all about it. Perhaps when I have told you, you will think about me as others do, and I shall have to run from you."
"Can you not trust me?" he reproached her.
"Oh, yes, I can trust you, but you may no longer trust me, and that I cannot bear."
"I promise you solemnly that I will believe every word you say."
"Ah, but you will think I do not know, and that it is your duty to give me into the hands of my enemies."