"But it shall be the endeavour of my life to atone to you for it, Rosaline. My best care, my truest love, shall be devoted to you. Daily and hourly——"
"Be quiet, Blase," she interrupted, the flash in her eye, the hot flush upon her cheek, rendering her for the moment almost more than beautiful. "We will understand one another at once, and finally. To talk of such a thing as 'love,' or 'care,' to me is worse than useless. My path lies one way, your path lies another: it will not be my fault if they ever cross each other again."
"You do not mean this," he said, after a pause.
"I do mean it. I used to mean it: as you know. I shall mean it always."
"Have you heard that Raynor is married?" asked Blase.
"Yes," she answered in constrained tones, her flushed cheek fading to whiteness.
"Then, perhaps, as he is out of our way, you will think of me, Rosaline. If not now——"
"Neither now nor ever, Blase. Do not deceive yourself."
With a quick movement, she evaded his outstretched hand that would have sought to detain her, and ran up the stairs. Leaving Mr. Blase Pellet excessively discomfited: but not as much so as a less hopeful swain would have been.
"It was a little too soon to speak," reasoned he with himself: "I must wait a while."