runk
and he heard what I said to Amy. He nearly died then. The doctor in the
evening said he must have had some shock."

She tried to come to him then. She was thinking: "Oh, if I've only got
time I can win this. But I must have time. I must have time."

He moved away from her, as he had done once before.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter," he said. "I've killed him by the way I've
been behaving to him all these months. I'm going away where I can't do
any harm."

She desperately calmed herself, speaking very quietly.

"Listen, Martin. You haven't done him any harm. He's happier now than
he's been for years. I know he is. And that doesn't touch us. You can't
leave me now. Where you go I must go."

"No," he answered. "No, Maggie. I ought to have gone before. I knew it
then, but I know it absolutely now. Everything I touch I hurt, so I
mustn't touch anything I care for."

She put her hands out towards him; words had left her. She would have
given her soul for words and she could say nothing.

She was surrounded with a hedge of fright and terror and she could not
pass it.

He seemed to see then in her eyes her despair. For an instant he
recognised her. Their eyes met for the first time; she felt that she
was winning. She began eagerly to speak: "Listen, Martin dear. You
can't do me any harm. You can only hurt me by leaving me. I've told you
before. Just think of that and only that."

The door opened and Aunt Anne came in.

He turned to her very politely. "I beg your pardon for coming, Miss
Cardinal," he said. "I know what you must think of me, but it's all
right. I've only come to say good-bye to Maggie. It's all right.
Neither you nor Maggie will be bothered with me again."

He turned to the open door. Aunt Anne stood aside to let him pass.
Maggie said:

"Martin, don't go! Martin, don't leave me! Don't leave me, Martin!"

He seemed to break then in his resolution.

"It's better. It's better," he cried, as though he were shouting
himself down, and then pushing Aunt Anne with his arm he hurried out
almost running, his steps stumbling down the stairs.

Maggie ran to the door. Her aunt stopped her, holding her back.

"It's better, Maggie dear," she said very gently, repeating Martin's
words.

The sound of the hall door closing echoed through the house.

Maggie struggled, crying again and again: "Let me go! Let me go! I must
go with him! I can't live without him! Let me go!"

She fought then, and with one ha