softly. "But if you meant it--if
we either of us cared any more, don't you see that it wouldn't do! Don't
you know how unjust--how horribly unjust it would be to her, to--to lead
her to think that Love could be like that; something to be taken on and
put off? It would be an unholy thing! It would be a sacrilege! No one
would be deceived by it; and Phil would know we both lied!"

"But we might work it out some way; with her to help it might not go
badly. I would do my best! I promise you that," he said, more sincere
than he had meant to be.

She was greatly moved and he wondered where emotion might lead her. He
was alertly watchful for any quick thrust that might find him off guard.
She went on hurriedly.

"Tom," she said gently, "Phil had thought of it; she spoke of it. But
nothing worse could happen to her. It would spoil the dear illusions she
has about me; and in the end she would think less of you. For you don't
mean it; it's only for Phil's sake you suggest it."

"And for your own sake, too; to protect you from--from just such
occurrences as--"

His eyes turned away from her to the point in the hedge through which
Holton had vanished.

She shivered as though a cold wind had touched her and drew the cloak
closer about her shoulders.

"I don't need any one's protection. That poor beast won't bother me. I
must say now all I shall ever have to say to you. We won't lie to each
other; we need not! There is no real soul in me. If there had been, this
house would not have been standing here empty all these years. And yet
you see that I haven't changed much; it hasn't really made a great deal
of difference in me. I have had my hours of shame, and I have
suffered--a little. I believe I am incapable of deep feeling: I was born
that way. If I appealed to your mercy now, I should be lying. And for a
long time I have lived the truth the best I could. I believe I
understand the value of truth and honor, too; I believe I realize the
value of such things now. I'm only a little dancing shadow on the big
screen; but I mean to do no more mischief; not if I can help it, and I
think that at last I have mastered myself. You see," and quite composed
she laughed again, "I'm almost a fool, but not quite."

He murmured something as she paused, but she did not heed him, nor ask
what he had said. He was not so relieved as he had expected to be by her
prompt refusal of his offer, whose fine quixotism he felt had been
wasted upon her.