at last, "you can't mean that!"

"I do."

"But you can't do this vile thing. Since the world began I know that
vain, weak, ignorant women have sold themselves to men they could not
love, for money, rank and luxury. But you are not of that breed, Nan.
You are not weak, you are not ignorant. You are strong in body and
soul, with high aims and the inheritance of rich blood in your veins.

"You are the typical American girl, the daughter of the line of men and
women who have made this Republic the glory of the world--women whose
hearts have been pure, whose lives have been clean, who have kept
burning in the hearts of men the great faiths of the soul. Respect for
this woman has been one of the foundations of our moral life. In the
worship I have paid you, there has been more than the charm of sex,
there has been always this instinctive recognition of the divine. Are
you going to kill my faith in God? The woman who sells herself to buy
bread, stands higher in the moral world than you----" He hesitated.

"Go on, Jim, say the worst. And still I'm going to do it."

"Knowing full well that no ceremony of Church or State, no words of
priest or judge, no pealing of organ, or pomp or pageantry can make
this thing a marriage? There is but one vile word in the English tongue
that fits the woman----"

Nan straightened her figure with a smile of defiance:

"Say it!"

The lover dropped in silence to the window seat and buried his face in
his hands in a paroxysm of emotion beyond control.

At length he rose and looked at the girl he loved long and tenderly.

"God in heaven! It's inconceivable, when I took into your beautiful
face! Have you no pity in your heart?"

The full lips smiled a cruel little smile.

"Men are strong, Jim. They can stand hard blows. You come of fighting
stock. I know that you will survive----"

"And the solemn pledge of love and loyalty we gave to each other--this
means nothing to you?"

"Our engagement was informal. The world knew nothing of it."

"No, but God knew, Nan, and our young souls were their own witness."

"I'm sorry to hurt you, Jim. But I must--it's fate; the big world, I
somehow feel I'm akin to, is calling me and I'm going----"

"And Bivens is this big world! If you will throw me over for money,
can't you wait until a real man goes with it? It wouldn't be so bad if
I felt you had chosen one who was my equal physically and mentally in
culture and breeding--but Bivens!"

"You und