"Come," whispered Pamela to her betrothed, "come away. I will explain to you."
She stole one glance at the hot and angry face of her young lover. Then, without a word, she passed out of his sight down one of the wood paths, still clinging to Lord Glengall's arm.
They walked in silence for a few minutes. Then she lifted her eyes to her companion's sad face.
"You heard what I said," she half-whispered. "I am not afraid of you; I was loyal."
"Yes, you were loyal, Pam, in the spirit, but loyalty without love is poor comfort. It is not enough for me."
"I do love you."
"I believe you do, Pam, but there are different kinds of love. Is this that other you once told me about?"
"Yes."
"I thought so. You have had few opportunities for meeting men in your quiet life. This is the lad who was your father's pupil?"
"The son of his old friend, Sir Gerald Trevithick."