She clung to his hand and pressed it with cruel force:
"Don't think it isn't hard. All my life I've been a wistful beggar, eager and hungry for love. In your arms I had forgotten the long days of misery. I've been happy—perfectly, divinely happy! It will be hard, the darkness and the loneliness again. But I can't drag you down, my sweetheart, my hero! Your life must be big and brilliant. I've dreamed it thus. You shall be a man among men, the world's great men—and so I am going out of your life!"
"You shall not!" the boy cried fiercely. "I tell you I don't believe this hideous thing—it's a lie, I tell you—it's a lie, and I don't care who says it! Nothing shall separate us now. I'll go with you to the ends of the earth and if you sink into hell, I'll follow you there, lift you in my arms and fight my way back through its flames!"
She smiled at him tenderly:
"It's beautiful to hear you say that, dearest, but our dream has ended!"
She stooped, took up the bag and coat, paused and looked into his face with the hunger and longing of a life burning in her eyes:
"But I shall keep the memory of every sweet and foolish word you have spoken, every tone of your voice, every line of your face, every smile and trick of your lips and eyes! I know them all. The old darkness will not be the same. I have loved and I have lived. A divine fire has been kindled in my soul. I can go into no world so far I shall not feel the warmth of your love, your kisses on my lips, your strong arms pressing me to your heart—the one true, manly heart that has loved me. I shall see your face forever though I see it through a mist of tears—good-by!"
The last word was the merest whisper.
The boy sprang toward her:
"I won't say it—I won't—I won't!"