"Oh, don't say that!" cried the girl, her face as white as silver, her clasped hands straining.
"I must—I must!" he muttered, not looking at her, not daring to see her face.
"Oh, what can I do—we do, without you! I can't bear it!"
She stopped and sank back into a chair, her breath coming heavily from her twitching lips, the unnoticed tears falling from her staring, pitiful, wild, appealing eyes, her hands nervously twisting her gloves.
There was a long silence. Each was undergoing a self-revelation; each was trying to face a future without the other.
"I must go!" he repeated aimlessly, mechanically.
The girl's heavy breathing deepened into a wild little moaning sound, inexpressibly pitiful, her hungry eyes fixed on his face. She gave way first, and flung herself down upon her knees at his side, her hands seeking his neck.
"Albert, I can't live without you now! Take me with you! Don't leave me!"
He stooped suddenly and took her in his arms, raised her, and kissed her hair.
"I didn't mean it, Maud; I'll never leave you—never! Don't cry!"