"But you love me still, Sybil—do you not!"
She was silent and trembling now.
"Speak," he urged; "you do love me still?"
"Yes, Audley."
"And will marry me, Sybil!"
"No."
"You love another then—another in secret?"
"No—one may not, cannot, love two."
But Audley thought of Stapylton and that devilish Irregular Horseman, and struck the heel of his glazed boot viciously into the gravel of the path.