"Can't you understand, Billy?" she pleaded, softly. "I can't help
seeing what a cur you are. I must hate you, Billy--of course, I must,"
she insisted, very gently, as though arguing the matter with herself;
then suddenly she sobbed and wrung her hands in anguish. "Oh, I can't,
I can't!" she wailed. "God help me, I can't hate you, even though I
know you for what you are!"
His arms lifted a little; and in a flash Margaret knew that what she
most wanted in all the world was to have them close about her, and
then to lay her head upon his shoulder and cry contentedly.
Oh, she did want to forgive him! If he had lost all sense of shame,