“You?—You?” she stammered, rising hastily.
In a stride he was beside her.
“Yes. Didn’t you expect me? You must have known I should come.”
He laughed down at her triumphantly and made as though to take her in his arms, but she shrank back, pressing him away from her with urgent hands.
“I told you not to come. I told you not to come,” she reiterated. “Oh!” turning aside with nervous desperation, “why didn’t you stay away?”
He stared at her.
“Why didn’t I? Do you suppose any man on earth would have stayed away after receiving such a letter? Why did you write it?”—rapidly. “What did you mean?”
She looked away from him towards the distant mountains rimming the horizon.
“I meant just what I said. I can’t marry you,” she answered mechanically.
“But that’s absurd! You’ve known I cared—you’ve cared, too—all these weeks. And last night you promised—you said—”