"You're right. I did not know what you meant to me; I know now, and since Fate has played us false, we'll—we'll turn our backs on her."
"Joyce, are you willing to—trust me?"
Almost roughly he raised her face and forced her to look at him.
"I—trust you! You could never be anything but good and noble. I know that. You never have been—but, there are going to be other days and nights—just plain days and long black nights—and—I think we have almost forgotten—but there is always—Jude!"
Then like a bewildering flash the words lightened the dark place of Gaston's character.
This woman whom—he saw the fearful truth—this woman whom he had helped to form, had outgrown him and left him far behind!
Now that she understood; now that her womanhood could stand alone, she rose pure and strong above his passion and the thing he called love. She only thought he had forgotten, when God knew he did not even care for the rough fellow who had all but strangled the life out of her.
"Besides"—he heard her as from a distance—"besides, you must go back!"
"Go back—good God! to what?"
"To all that you had to go back to—when you turned to help me!"