"Can you blame me," clicking the latch back and forth, "when all the world has suddenly grown dark?"
"There are other eyes than mine," gently.
"Yes; but they will light other paths than those I shall follow."
"Jack, you are too manly to make threats."
"That was not a threat," said I. "Well, I shall go and laugh at myself for my presumption. To laugh at yourself is to cure. There is no more wine in the cup, nothing but the lees. I'll have to drink them. A wry face, and then it will all be over. Yes, I am bitter. To have dreamed as I have dreamed, and to awake as I have! Ah, well; I must go on loving you till—"
"Till she comes," supplemented Phyllis.
"You wrong me. It is only in letters that I am versatile. Forgive my bitterness and forget my folly."
"Oh, Jack, if you knew how sorry I am! I shall forgive the bitterness, but I will not forget what you term folly. It's something any woman might be proud of, the love of an honest, dear, good fellow. Good night." She held her hand toward me.
"Good night," I said, "and God bless you!" I kissed the palm of her hand, opened the door, and then stumbled down the steps.
I do not remember how I reached home.