"Then--if I--if I find that I----"
"Don't say it," she whispered. She had turned quite white.
"Will you listen----"
"No. It--it isn't true--it cannot be."
"It is coming truer every moment.... It is very, very true--even now.... It is almost true.... And now it has come true. Sybilla!"
White, dismayed, she gazed at him, her hands instinctively closing her ears. But she dropped them as he stepped forward.
"I love you, Sybilla. I wish to marry you.... Will you try to care for me--a little----"
"I couldn't--I can't even try----"
"Dear----"
He had her hands now; she twisted them free; he caught them again. Over their interlocked hands she bowed her head, breathless, cheeks aflame, seeking to cover her eyes.