“Then you resent me?”
“Sometimes.”
“In my lucid moments I sec the thing clearly enough. It is simply an impossible situation. And I have added the final touch by coming out here.” He seated himself on a block of stone, and rested his chin moodily on his two hands. “That is what disturbs me—it frightens me. I have watched other men and women going through this queer confusion we call falling in love. I've pitied them. They were weak, helpless, surrendering the reasoning faculty to sheer emotion. Sometimes, I've thought of them as creatures caught in a net.”
“Oh!” Betty breathed softly, “I've never thought.. I wonder if it is like that.”
“It is with me. I see no happiness in it. I hope you will never have to live through what I've lived through these past few weeks. And now I sit here——weakly—knowing I ought to go at once and never disturb you again. But the thought of going—of saying good-by—is terrible. It's one more thing I seem unable to face.”
Betty was struggling now against tumultuous thoughts. And without overcoming them, without even making headway against them, she spoke:
“I can't let you take all this on yourself. I must have—well made it hard for you, there on the ship. I enjoyed being with you.”
This was all she could say about that.
There was a long, long silence.
Suddenly, with an inarticulate exclamation, he sprang up.