"Oh, I don't know—I don't know. You've hurt me, Michael; I'm all hurt and—and quivering with your wound. I don't know!—I don't understand myself. My heart is sore—all raw and sore. So is my mind—the blow you dealt hurts me there, too——"
"But, Thusis dear! You wounded me, too——"
"Oh, I know.... I scarcely knew what I said. I don't know now what I'm saying—what I'm doing—here in your arms——" She tried to release herself, and, failing, buried her face against my shoulder with a convulsive little shudder.
"You must love me," I whispered unsteadily. "I can't live without you, Thusis."
"But I can't love you, Michael."
"Can't you find it in your heart to care for me?"
"In my heart, perhaps.... But not in my mind."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean exactly that.... I can't consult my—my heart alone.... I must not. I dare not. I am obliged to consult my senses, too. And—dear Michael—my senses tell me that I may not care for you—must not fall in love—with you——"
"Why?"