"You think that my loyalty is due to Helen Harley, but I do not love her! I cannot!"
"No, it is not that," she said. "Helen Harley may not love you; I do not think she does. But I am quite sure of myself. I know that I can never love you."
"You may not now," he said hotly, "but you can be wooed and you can be won. I could not expect you to love me at once—I am not so foolish—but devotion, a long devotion, may change a woman's heart."
"No," she repeated, "I cannot change."
She seemed to be moving away from him. She was intangible and he could not grasp her. But he raised his head proudly.
"I do not come as a beggar," he said. "I offer something besides myself."
Her eyes flashed; she, too, showed her pride.
"I stand alone, I am nothing except myself, but my choice in the most important matter that comes into a woman's life shall be as free as the air."
She, too, raised her head and met him with an unflinching gaze.
"I also understand," he said moodily. "You love Prescott."