"Forgive me in your turn. I am sorry I hurt you."
"Do you think it matters? My life will be all one long pain now. I am going away; I have come to say good-bye to you."
"You are—really—going—away?"
"Yes; I cannot live here after what I told you last night. It is impossible for both of us. I must go out into the world again and try to win back the self-respect I have lost. But before I go I want to thank you for all you have done for me; for a month you have enabled me to shake hands with happiness. I can never be sufficiently grateful to you."
"Where—where shall you go when you leave here?"
"I haven't the remotest notion. On to the mainland most probably; out to some station in the far West, where I can forget and be forgotten. What does it matter where I go?"
"Does—does it never strike you that in thus dooming yourself to hopeless misery you are being very cruel to me?"
"It is only to be kind. God knows I have thought of you before myself, and the only conclusion I can come to is that it would be worse for you if I stayed."
"Then good-bye, and may God bless you and protect you always!"
He looked into her face; it was pale as death. She held out her hand, and he raised it to his lips. The knowledge that had come to him the previous night was confirmed now. In that second he learned how much he loved her.