“You cared so little, you felt none?”
“No,” responded Antony, the words leaping to his lips, “I cared so much I felt none.”
“Ah,” she breathed, and stopped. “Then you will go back to the old footing?” she asked.
Antony’s heart beat furiously.
“I cannot,” he replied.
“Why?” she demanded, speaking very low.
Antony drew a deep breath.
“Because I love you,” he said quietly.
Again there was a dead silence. At last Antony spoke quietly.
“Of course I have no right to tell you that,” he said. “But you may as well know the whole truth now. It was because of that love that I agreed to this business. I had nothing to offer you. Here was my chance to obtain something. I had no notion then that you lived in this neighbourhood. When I found out, I was tempted to let you infer that there was a mystery, some possible explanation of my conduct. It would have been breaking my contract in the spirit, though not actually in the letter. Well, I didn’t break it at all, and of course you did not understand. In order to keep my contract I had to deceive you, or at all events to allow you to believe an untruth. Naturally you scorned my deceit, as it appeared to you. It was that that mattered of course, not the social position. I understood that completely. Later, you offered me your friendship. You were ready to trust without understanding. I could not accept your trust. A friendship between us must have led others to suspect that I was not what I appeared to be. That was to be avoided. It had to be avoided. I hurt you then, knowing what I did.” He stopped.