Diane caught that note of dull endurance in his voice, and seized upon it. He still cared!
“Hugh, you’ve listened to Catherine till you’ve lost all sense of truth.” She spoke gently, pleadingly. “Don’t do this thing. We’ve been guilty of no sin that needs atonement. It isn’t wrong to love.”
But he was implacable.
“No,” he returned. “It isn’t wrong to love—but sometimes love should be denied.”
Diane drew nearer to him, and laid her hand on his arm.
“Not ours, Hugh,” she whispered. “Not love like ours—”
“Be silent!”
Hugh sprang to his feet, his eyes ablaze, his voice hoarse and shaking.
“Don’t tempt me! Do you think I’ve found it easy to decide on this? When every fibre of my body is calling out for you? My God, no!”
“Then don’t do it! Hugh—dearest—”