"Oh, no." Evelyn wrenched her hand from him. "That is all over. Things are changed with me. My eyes are open at last. I can forgive every one but you, Sir Gerald Scarlett—you who let me condescend to you, lead you on—and finally almost do the asking!"
"Faith, your eyes may be open, but they don't see as straight as they did when closed," Scarlett indignantly contradicted her. "I've loved ye all along, and sooner; since the moment I saw your picture smiling up to me among the roses."
"We won't discuss it. I only know"—Evelyn's voice broke—"I never want to see you again."
"But if only I could make people understand—believe in me——"
The stranger, who, all this time, had been sitting bowed forward, his face buried in his hands, suddenly broke forth. "It's not a fable! The Rainbow Mine—it's true! I discovered it the day—but where—where—where? My God, where?" He looked about wildly.
Evelyn turned sharply on the speaker. "Who are you?"
Matthew Durant, his passion spent, lifted streaming eyes to his daughter's face. "Don't you know me, Evie?"
"Oh, no, no! You're not—oh, daddy!" Falling on her knees beside him, she gathered the feeble form into her strong young arms.
Then Maclane led Scarlett quietly away.