"It's true, isn't it?" he demanded.
She did not answer for a while. Then she unclasped his hands, which had been resting on his shoulder, and slipped one arm around his neck:
"Yes, it is true; I want to marry you. But I can't.... So—so won't this way do?" she said. "You can always have me this way."
He kissed her lifted lips.
"No, it won't do, Steve. I want all that you are, all that you have to give the man you love and marry, all that the future holds of beauty and of mystery for us both.... I want a home with you, Steve; I want every minute of life with you, waking and sleeping.... I love you, Steve.... And because I do love you I dare tell you that I am falling in love with our future, too—in love with the very thought of—your children, Steve.... Dear, I think that I am like my father. I love only once. And once in love, there is nothing else for me; no other woman, no recompense if you fail me, no cure for me."
They both were deadly serious now; his face was quiet but set in firm and sober lines; she had lost much of her colour, so that the grey eyes with their dark lashes seemed unusually large.
"I can't marry you," she said, drawing his head nearer. "Do you think for one moment that I would deny you anything you asked of me if it were in my power to give?"
"Will you not tell me why?"
"I'm not free to tell you.... Oh, Jim! I adore you—I do love you so—so deeply. I'm married. I'm sorry I'm married. But I can't help it—I can't get out of it—it scares me even to think of trying——"
"What hold has that man——"