“Oh, you women, you women!” I groaned bitterly.
“What do you mean?” she demanded, with some amazement.
“What do I mean? Are you blind? Have you no eyes as well as no heart? Can you not see how I have loved you this long, long while; loved you with a passion no tongue can tell? And now—”
I pointed dramatically to the new ring.
“Oh, that! Why, you don’t mean to say—”
“I mean to say that after I read of your engagement in this morning’s Town Tattle I went straight off and took a passage for Europe. I leave to-morrow. I’ve just come to say good-bye.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, so sorry you feel that way about it. I never dreamed—”
“No, I have uttered no word, given no sign. How could I, knowing the difference in our social positions? Break, break my heart, but I must hold my tongue. So it seems I have kept my secret better even than I knew. But it does not matter now. I have no word of reproach. To-morrow I go, never to return. I pray you may be happy, very happy. And so, good-bye....”
“Wait a moment! Good gracious!”
She laid a detaining hand on my arm, but I shook it off quite roughly, and strode to the window. My face was stern and set; my shoulders heaved with emotion. I had seen the leading man in our Cruel Chicago Company (in which I doubled the parts of the waiter and the policeman) use the same gesture with great effect.