"You and I," she said, fiercely—"would tire of each other in a week!"
"Have the courage to try! No!—you should not tire of me in a week! I would find ways to keep you mine, Kitty—cradled, and comforted, and happy."
"Happy!" Her slight laugh was the forlornest thing. "Take me out to sea—and drop me there—with a stone round my neck. That might be worth doing—perhaps."
He surveyed her unmoved.
"Listen, Kitty! This kind of thing can't go on forever."
"What are you waiting for?" she said, tauntingly. "You ought to have gone last week."
"I am not going," he said, raising himself by a sudden movement—"till you come with me!"
Kitty started, her eyes riveted to his.
"And yet go I will! Not even you shall stop me, Kitty. I'll take the help I've gathered back to those poor devils—if I die for it. But you'll come with me—you'll come!"
She drew back—trembling under an impression she strove to conceal.