by trembling lips, by the upturned face.
Winston drew a deep breath of relief, his contracted brows
straightening. For one hesitating moment he remained speechless,
struggling for self-control. Merciful Heavens! would he ever
understand this woman? Would he ever fathom her full nature? ever rend
the false from the true? The deepening, baffling mystery served merely
to stimulate ambition, to strengthen his unwavering purpose. He
possessed the instinct that assured him she cared; it was for his sake
that she had braved the night and Farnham's displeasure. What, then,
was it that was holding them apart? What was the nature of this
barrier beyond all surmounting? The man in him rebelled at having so
spectral an adversary; he longed to fight it out in the open, to
grapple with flesh and blood. In spite of promise, his heart found
words of protest.

"Beth, please tell me what all this means," he pleaded simply, his
hands outstretched toward her. "Tell me, because I love you; tell me,
because I desire to help you. It is true we have not known each other
long; yet, surely, the time and opportunity have been sufficient for
each to learn much regarding the character of the other. You trust me,
you believe in my word; down in the secret depths of your heart you are
beginning to love me. I believe that, little girl; I believe that,
even while your lips deny its truth. It is the instinct of love which
teaches me, for I love you. I may not know your name, the story of
your life, who or what you are, but I love you, Beth Norvell, with the
life-love of a man. What is it, then, between us? What is it? God
help me! I could battle against realities, but not against ghosts. Do
you suppose I cannot forgive, cannot excuse, cannot blot out a past
mistake? Do you imagine my love so poor a thing as that? Do not wrong
me so. I am a man of the world, and comprehend fully those temptations
which come to all of us. I can let the dead past bury its dead,
satisfied with the present and the future. Only tell me the truth, the
naked truth, and let me combat in the open against whatever it is that
stands between us. Beth, Beth, this is life or death to me!"

She stood staring at him, her face gone haggard, her eyes full of
misery. Suddenly she sank upon her knees beside a chair, and, with a
moan, buried her countenance within her hands.

"Beth," he asked, daring to touch her trembling hair, "have I hurt you?
Have I done wr