"My dear—my dear—Oh! how glorious you are!"
But she did not move.
He stirred impatiently, and then, looking at her with adoring eyes, he whispered, "Oh! my dear! but I love you!"
"I must go," she said, her eyes, large and frightened, appealingly upon him—
He smiled at her, his eyes laughing.
"Yes, Francis—let me—let me. Now while I can still see what I ought to do."
"There's only one thing that you ought to do. You belong to me now." She plucked nervously with her hands one against the other.
"Francis, let me go—please—please——" He saw then that she was unhappy and the laughter died from his eyes. His voice, fallen from its happiness, was almost harsh, as he replied—
"You know we love one another, have loved one another ever since that day when we met in Miss Rand's rooms? You know it as well as I do. You knew it when you came to these rooms to-day."
"I oughtn't to have come." Her voice had gathered strength. "It's only because I realize now what you are to me that I want to go. I thought I was so strong, that I could be fair to Roddy and to you too ... I didn't know——"