But all his doubts and fears had crystallized to certainty before she whispered, "Anthony."
"Do you mean that you are going to marry—Anthony?"
She nodded. "He loves me, Justin."
"And you love him?"
Her head went up. "I told you just now that—I loved—you. But I've promised Anthony. He asked me that day before I went to Diana's. The day after I first saw you. And he was so good, and I was so lonely, that I thought that—I cared. I didn't know then what it meant—to care."
His eyes, which had been stern, softened.
"And now that you know," he asked, "what are you going to do?"
She twisted her fingers nervously.
"I don't know," she faltered. "What shall I do, Justin?"
"Oh, my dear," he said, brokenly, "Anthony is my friend. I can't steal you—like a thief—in the night——"