Lily said, sharply: "I would not have to put that question to a modest girl."
"I have to put it to you!" he retorted, beginning to lose his self-command. "Why should Valerie West discontinue her friendship with me because my family's stupid attitude toward her makes it impossible for a generous and proud girl to marry me?"
Lily, pale, infuriated, leaned forward in her chair.
"Because," she retorted violently, "if that intimacy continues much longer a stupid world and your stupid family will believe that the girl is your mistress! But in that event, thank God, the infamy will rest where it belongs—not on us!"
A cold rage paralysed his speech; she saw its ghastly reflection on his white and haggard face—saw him quiver under the shock; rose involuntarily, terrified at the lengths to which passion had scourged her:
"Louis," she faltered—"I—I didn't mean that!—I was beside myself; forgive me, please! Don't look like that; you are frightening me—"
She caught his arm as he passed her, clung to it, pallid, fearful, imploring,—"W-what are you going to do, Louis! Don't go, dear, please. I'm sorry, I'm very, very humble. Won't you speak to me? I said too much; I was wrong;—I—I will try to be different—try to reconcile myself to—to what—you—wish—"
He looked down at her where she hung to him, tearful face lifted to his:
"I didn't know women could feel that way about another woman," he said, in a dull voice. "There's no use—no use—"
"But—but I love you dearly, Louis! I couldn't endure it to have anything come between us—disrupt the family—"