The young man, his trembling right hand clenching and unclenching nervously, strode a step forward.
“No, no!” she cried. “Stay where you are. Answer me, answer me!”
“Oh, Edna,” he whispered, “God knows I would do anything to win you,—anything,—yes, almost what you ask!”
“Yes, or no?” she cried. “Answer me!”
“I cannot be a traitor to the men!”
As if in approval of this sentiment, a cheer rose from the hall. Some one was speaking, and even in his misery Marsten recognized the voice of Gibbons.
Edna turned without a word and opened the door. Marsten followed her out.
“Stay where you are,” she said, with a sob.
“I will see you to the station.”
“No; you must not come near me. I hope never to see you again.”