Calmly he returned her glance. "No," he replied. "Not unless she brought me the same love I gave."
"Then I cannot promise to be your wife," she said hesitatingly, as though the words were painful.
He released her hand slowly. "May I hope that some day it will be different?"
"Let us both hope so," she replied. They remained silent and motionless, each feeling that an epoch of life had come; each wondering what futurity concealed. Perhaps a minute passed, though it seemed much longer, then Florence spoke. "We had better not remain here, Harold, the world sometimes misunderstands even friends."
He walked silently beside her, back to where the others were. Duncan saw them approaching and took the opportunity to leave Miss Ender. Harold felt that he could not endure the laughter and merriment about him; so he left Florence with Duncan and wandered off to the dark, silent library across the hall. Florence, too, wanted to be alone; but she could see no way to evade Duncan, and so she was left to talk to a man for whom she had an instinctive distaste.
"I see you are independent in society as well as in politics, Miss Moreland," Duncan said, as soon as Harold had left them.
"In what way?" she replied inquiringly.
"Instead of remaining here to be bored by bad music, you were independent enough to desert."
"Perhaps the bad music drove me away. Real independence cannot be driven."
"Even in that you are original; society is not driven, it meekly follows its leaders."