“Not even for a little while?”
“Not even for a day. It just can’t be. I’m fond of you, and you’ve been a brick to pull me out of this, but don’t you see that it can’t be? Don’t you really see how it is?”
She looked at him, then at the table for a moment, and then out over the buildings of the great city.
“Oh, Ed,” she reflected sadly, “I’ve been such a fool. I don’t mean about the confession—I’m glad I did that—but just in regard to everything I’ve done. But you’re right, Ed. I’ve felt all along that it would have to end this way, even the morning I agreed to make the confession. But I’ve been making myself hope against hope, just because from the very first day I saw you out there I thought I wouldn’t be able to hold out against you, and now you see I haven’t. Well, all right, Ed. Let’s say good-bye. Love’s a sad old thing, isn’t it?” and she began to put on her things.
He helped her, wondering over the strange whirl of circumstances which had brought them together and was now spinning them apart.
“I wish I could do something more for you, Imogene, I really do,” he said. “I wish I could say something that would make it a little easier for you—for us both—but what would be the use? It wouldn’t really, now would it?”
“No,” she replied brokenly.
He took her to the elevator and down to the sidewalk, and there they stopped for a moment.
“Well, Imogene,” he began, and paused. “It’s not just the way I’d like it to be, but—well——” he extended his hand “——here’s luck and good-by, then.” He turned to go.
She looked up at him pleadingly.