Desmond's mouth hardened to a dogged line, and he drew a little away from her; because her entreaty and the disturbing nearness of her face made resistance harder than he dared allow her to guess.
"My dear little woman, you haven't the smallest notion what you are asking of me. I never bargained for throwing up active service on your account; and I'll not give the fellows a chance to insult you by flinging marriage in my teeth."
"That means—you insist on going?"
"My dear—I can do nothing else."
She threw his hand from her with a choking sob.
"Very well, then, go—go! I know, now, that you don't really—care, in your heart—whatever you may say."
And turning again to the mantelpiece, she laid her head upon her arms.
For a few moments Desmond stood regarding her, a great pain and tenderness in his eyes.
"It is rather cruel of you to put it that way, Ladybird," he said gently. "Can't you see that this isn't a question—of caring, but simply of doing my duty? Won't you try and help me, instead of making things harder for us both?"
He passed his hand caressingly over her hair, and a little shiver of misery went through her at this touch.