“My own decision,” she answered, struggling to remain calm.
“You have decided, then, to discard my love,” he said fiercely. “You prefer being the wife of a Prince rather than of a struggling barrister. Well, perhaps, after all your choice is but natural.”
“I do not prefer,” she declared, passionately. “Cannot you see, George, that there are circumstances which compel me to act as I am acting? Heaven knows, I have suffered enough, because you are the only man I can love.”
“Then why not remain mine, darling?” he said, more tenderly, with a slight pressure of her hand as he gazed with intense earnestness into her tear-dimmed eyes. “We love one another, therefore why should both our lives be wrecked?”
“Because it is imperative,” she answered, gloomily.
“But what motive can you have in thus ruining your future, and casting aside all chance of happiness?” he inquired, puzzled.
“It is to secure my future, not to ruin it, that I have promised to marry the Prince,” she answered.
“And for no ulterior motive?”
“Yes,” she faltered. “There is still another reason.”
“What is it? Tell me.”