"Forgive me, Mary."
And to his surprise she bent toward him to kiss him good-night, and said steadily:
"You shouldn't have said what you did. I do love you. Why should I want to marry you if I don't love you?"
"I don't know, Mary," said Laurence with a faint weary smile.
VI
Judge Baxter's office was in the Bank Building, up a flight of worn and dingy stairs. Carlin, knowing the Judge's habits, appeared there at eight o'clock the next morning, and was warmly welcomed. The judge was a big man, with waves of white hair and beard and bright blue eyes; carelessly dressed; with a quid of tobacco in his cheek, which did not interfere with his speech, but gave him a somewhat bovine, meditative air, as he rolled and nibbled at it in the intervals of conversation.
"Coming back to me, Laurence?" he said at once, tilting back his chair and beaming at the young man.
"I don't know—I came to talk things over," Laurence hesitated.