A woman was standing within a dozen feet of the desk.
"Patty!" he cried, leaping to his feet bewildered.
Patty did not move. Alas, she had left all her great bravery at the threshold. What would he think of her?
"Patty!" he repeated. "You are here?"
"Yes." All the blood in her body seemed to congest in her throat. "Are—is it true that you are going to Japan?" If he came a step nearer she was positive that she would fall.
"Yes, Patty; it is as true as I love you. But let us not speak of that," sadly.
"Yes, yes! Let us speak of it!" a wild despair in her voice and gesture. "Let us speak of it, since I do nothing but think of it, think of it, think of it! Oh! I am utterly shameless, but I can not fight any longer. I have no longer any pride. I should despise you, but I do not. I should hate you, but I can not ... No, no! Stay where you are."
"Patty, do you love me?" There was a note in his voice as vibrant as the second string of a cello.
"Yes."
"Do you still believe that I am a blackguard?"