"I am not fit that you should be my wife," he cried. "I know I am not, and yet I would murder the man who tried to take you away from me. Oh, I am in earnest; I would. Why, you don't know what you are to me. You are hope, faith, motive power, heaven."
He started up, and walked away from her as though he were ashamed to stay by her side. But he quickly came back.
"Oh yes, I hate professions of faith," he went on. "I despise repentant sinners. I would a thousand times rather have to do with a good pronounced blackguard than with your whining convert. And yet I know I shall be a good fellow with you as my wife. And I never break my promises. I was never so mean as that. Oh yes, I was whisky-sodden when I knew you first, and I was a plaything to the habit; but since that day—you remember, Olive—I've never touched it, and I never will—no, I never will!"
Olive Castlemaine was a little frightened at the intensity of his words; nevertheless, she was proud of her power over her lover. What woman would not be?
"And yet I am removed from you, Olive. I don't know why, but I feel it. You love me, don't you?"
For answer, she put her hand in his, and looked steadily into his eyes.
"You know, Radford," she said.
"Yes," he said; "yes, I know; but not as I love you. No, no, you couldn't. There's not enough in me to love. You are the only woman in the world to me; I could no more marry another than I could rise from the dead. Could you marry another man?"
"Of course not," said the girl; "you know I could not."
"Say that again," he said passionately, "say it again. Tell me that whatever may happen—yes, I repeat it—whatever may happen, you'll never marry another."