She only sighed. I thought there was a passing look of pity in her eyes for a single moment, but could not decide whether it had really been there or whether it was merely imaginary.
“Then, if that is your decision, so let it be!” she murmured hoarsely.
And we were silent for a long time.
I looked into her beautiful eyes in admiration, for was I not now her lover? Was not Aline Cloud my beloved?
The dying day darkened into night, and Simes entering to draw down the blinds compelled us to converse on topics far from our inmost thoughts.
She allowed me to smoke, but when I invited her to dine, she firmly declined.
“No,” she answered. “For to-day this is sufficient. I regret that I called to visit you—I shall regret it all my life through.”
“Why?” I demanded, dismayed. “Ah, don’t say that, Aline! Remember that you’ve permitted me to love you.”
“I have only permitted what I cannot obviate,” she answered, in a hard, strained voice. I saw that tears were in her eyes, and that she was now filled with regret.
Yet I loved her, and felt that my true, honest affection must sooner or later be reciprocated.