"No, Steve loved you. Steve is a better fellow than I, and—and you said that no decent woman would take me. Steve told me the other night that he had asked you to be his wife, and that you had said no, that your heart was already given, and so we are both going. I could not stop and see you belonging to another."
There was a silence. It had begun to rain; the heavy drops pattered against the window, and a rising wind rattled the door.
"It is better that I go," he said. "I shall start now in some other way of life."
"You and Steve?"
"No, Steve will go back to his people; he has relations."
"And you?"
"I have no people. I have no one belonging to me, not a single soul—I never shall have."
"You are quite alone in the world?"
"Quite."
"And that sweetheart you spoke of?"