rather, your jest is."

"Would to Heaven I were jesting! And why did you avoid me in Monte
Carlo?"

She realized that there was some justice in his questions and that she
was not altogether innocent of the cause of his madness, if it were
that.

"I did not speak to you because I wished to avoid this very moment. But
since it was destined to be, let us have done. What other questions
would you ask, Mr. Hillard?"

"Who is that man--the Italian with the scar--who ran after you that
night?"

"I will not answer that."

"'A lady? Grace of Mary, that is droll!'"

"Why do you say that?"

"I am only quoting the man with the scar. Those were the words he used
in regard to you."

"Perhaps he is right; perhaps I am not a lady, according to his lights."
But she laughed.

"Do not laugh like that! What you are or have been, or might have been
to him, is nothing to me. Only one fact remains clear, and that is, I
love you."

"No, Mr. Hillard, you are only excited. You have been letting your
imagination run away with you. Be sensible. Listen. You know nothing of
me; you have neither my name nor my past--nothing. I may in truth be
everything undesirable."

"Not to me!"

"I may be a fugitive from the law."

"I do not believe it."

"There may be scars which do not show--in the heart, in the mind. I am
sorry, terribly sorry. Heaven knows that I meant no harm. But it seems
that fate is determined that every move I make shall become a folly, the
ghost of which shall pursue me. I told you to forget me, that I had
entered your life only to pass out of it immediately. Forget me!" Her
voice was no longer without expression.

"Forget you? I would it were as easy as the asking! I say that I love
you, that I shall always love you. But," he added gently, lowering his
voice, "I have asked nothing in return."

"Nothing in return?" she murmured.

"No. I offer my love only that it may serve you without reward. Do you
need in your trouble a man's arm, a man's heart and mind?"

"I need nothing;" but her voice was now strangely sweet. So, she was
loved by one who asked for nothing? This was not like the men she had
known. "Do not misjudge me, Mr. Hillard. If indeed you believe that you
love me--incredible as it seems to me--I am proud of the honor. But
fatality forbids that I accept not only your love but your friendship."

"Not even my friendship?" bewildered. "And why not?"

"To answer that would only be adding to your hurt."