'My—we—it has nothing to do with that kind of thing.'
'I thought not! Then you will sacrifice yourself for an idea? You shall not!'
'Anthony, you are very good to me—you have always been. I know that if I felt for you as you wish me to feel, then you could help me. But I don't! As long as I can remember you have been my playfellow, my brother; but not more—never this! Anthony, I love you, but not—but not—You have been so honest with me that whatever it costs I must be honest with you. I can never do as you wish!'
Unziar listened rather to some far-off tide of thought, as it seemed, than to her words—thoughts that flowed in upon him and quenched hope.
'You do not love me; Elmur is beside the mark—beside the question of love—altogether. Then, Valerie, whom do you love?'
She gave him a frightened glance, and drew in her breath as one who parries a blow.
'There is no one'; then, added more firmly, 'You are mistaken—there is no one.'
'If that be so,' responded the young man sullenly, 'then my chance is as good as another's. I shall not give up hope! Remember that. But I have thought that Rallywood——'
Valerie recalled the coldness of the averted grey eyes, and the memory stung her.
'He hates me,' she replied with a haughty smile, 'as I hate him!'