"I've got to," stolidly.
"Why?"
"You know why."
"You mean—what you did—just now?"
He nodded miserably.
"That doesn't matter. I'm not angry. I—I liked it."
"I am afraid it does matter. It makes a mess of everything, and it's all my fault. I spoiled things. I've got to go."
"But you will come back?" she pleaded.
He shook his head.
"It is better not, Madeline. I'm sorry."