"Haven't I thought of it day and night, until I have been about crazy?
But it is no use, I cannot tell on him."
"And are you willing to let him go free that he may do the same villainous things in the future that he has done in the past? A word from you will stir the parish to its very depths. If the people only knew what Ben did to you at Long Wharf that night, they would rise and drive him from the place. If I told what I know they would not believe me. But if you confirm what I say, that will make all the difference."
"Please do not urge me," Jean pleaded. "I cannot do it."
"You must love him still."
"No, I do not love him now," and the girl's voice was low.
"What hinders you, then, from telling?"
"It is the love I had for him in the past. That is one of the sweet memories of my life. Nothing can ever take it from me. No matter what he has done, and no matter what may happen to me, it is something to look back upon those days which are almost sacred to me now. But there, it is no use for me to say anything more. It is difficult for me to explain, and harder, perhaps, for you to understand."
With a deep sigh of weariness, Jean closed her eyes and turned her face on the pillow. Knowing that nothing more could be accomplished, and chiding himself that he had tired her, Douglas rose to go.
"Just a moment, please," Jean said, as she again opened her eyes. "Are you sure that Nell does not care for Ben? Tell me once more."
"Miss Strong told me so herself," Douglas replied. Then in a few words he related the scene that had taken place in front of the Jukes' house on Friday afternoon. "Doesn't that prove the truth of what I have said?" he asked in conclusion.