"Child, child," said Willett, taking her free hand in both of his, "you speak a silent language with your eyes that no man can fail to understand."
"I failed," I said bitterly, as Willett kissed her hand, placed it in mine, and, turning, entered the open door.
"And what blame, Carus?" she whispered. "What have I been to you but a symbol of unbridled selfishness, asking all, giving nothing? How could you know I loved you so dearly that I could stand aside to let you pass? First I loved you selfishly, shamelessly; then I begged your guilty love, offering mine in the passion of my ignorance and bewilderment."
Her arm fell from my shoulder and nestled in mine, and we turned away together under the brilliant autumn glory of the trees.
"That storm that tore me—ah, Carus—I had been wrecked without your strong arm to bear me up!"
"It was you who bore me up, Elsin. How can I leave you now!"
"Why, Carus, our honor is involved."
"Our honor!"
"Yes, dear, ours."
"You—you bid me go, Elsin?"