After this Jane would be out of his life—utterly. It was all very well to talk of friendship. But he wouldn’t be her friend. He didn’t want to see her. He didn’t want to hear her voice. He thought he should die when he had to meet her as Mrs. Frederick Towne.
But what was he going to do without her? What...?
He paced the room restlessly. Ahead of him had been always the hope that he might win her. And now, she was won, and not by him. It was—unthinkable.
His excitement increased. The valentine seemed to mock him as it lay there fragile in its loveliness.
“Roses red, my dear,
And violets blue,
Honey’s sweet, my dear....”
He reached out his hand for it and tore it into shreds. Paper lace!... Paper lace!...