“I suppose,” I began, “once, this would have mattered immensely. Now—”
“Nothing matters,” she said, completing me. “I felt I had to tell you. I wanted you to understand why I didn’t marry you—with both hands. I have loved you”—she paused—“have loved you ever since the day I kissed you in the bracken. Only—I forgot.”
And suddenly she dropped her face upon her hands, and sobbed passionately—
“I forgot—I forgot,” she cried, and became still....
I dabbled my paddle in the water. “Look here!” I said; “forget again! Here am I—a ruined man. Marry me.”
She shook her head without looking up.
We were still for a long time. “Marry me!” I whispered.
She looked up, twined back a whisp of hair, and answered dispassionately—
“I wish I could. Anyhow, we have had this time. It has been a fine time—has it been—for you also? I haven’t nudged you all I had to give. It’s a poor gift—except for what it means and might have been. But we are near the end of it now.”
“Why?” I asked. “Marry me! Why should we two—”