"My God!" he cried, "If it is true—if you don't love me! If—"
Kaya stretched out her hand to him, catching her breath. "Good-bye, Velasco—"
He turned on her fiercely, and raised his arm as if he would have struck her: "You are cruel!" he said, crying out, "You are not a woman!" He caught her by the shoulders and held her, looking down into her eyes, with his face close to hers.
"Swear it!" he cried, "Swear it if you can—if you dare! Swear you don't love—me."
She looked at him and her lips trembled.
"Swear it!"
She nodded.
A cry burst from his throat, like that of an animal, wounded, at bay. His blood-shot eyes stared at her for a moment, and then he flung her from him with all his strength and turning, dashed from the room.
The door slammed.
The girl reeled backward, putting her hands to her face. Then, as the echo of his footsteps died away on the stairs, she fell on her knees, crouching and sobbing.