“Naturally!”
“There was no need. I had to give him what I had promised him, one must always keep one’s word. It was rather a brutal business, Joan, but I had to go through with it. I’d sooner not tell you anything more. I am not proud of it.”
“I—I understand, and you can understand that I was anxious.”
“For him?”
“For—for you.”
“For me?” He took two long strides to her. “Joan, are you going to let your pride rear impassable walls between us for ever? Can’t you be fair, generous, natural, true to yourself? Can’t you see how great, how overwhelming my love for you is?”
“There is—is something more than pride between us, Hugh.”
“There is nothing—nothing that cannot be broken; that cannot be forced and broken down,” he said eagerly. “You are to marry a man you do not love. Why should you? Would it be fair to yourself? Would it be fair to me? Would it be fair to your future? Think while there is time.”
“I cannot,” she said. “I have given him my promise—and I shall stand by it.” She drew her hands away. “It is useless, Hugh. Useless now—if I did rear walls of pride between you and myself. I confess it now, I did; but they are so strong that we may not break them down.”
“They shall be broken down!” he said. “Answer me this—this question truthfully, and from your soul. Look into my eyes, and answer me in one word, yes or no?” He held her hands again; he held her so that she must face him, and so holding her, looking into her eyes, he asked her: “Do you love me? Have you given to me some of your heart, knowing that I have given all of mine to you, knowing that I love you so, and need you and long for you? Do you love me a little in return, Joan?”