hand on the door knob behind her, still looking him in the eyes.
Behind her the door slowly swung open under the pressure.
His own self-control was fast going; he dared not trust himself to speak
lest he break down and beg for the only chance that her loyalty to
others forbade her to take. But the new and deeper emotion which she had
betrayed had awakened the ever-kindling impatience in him, and now,
afire, he stood looking desperately on all he must for ever lose, till
the suffering seemed unendurable in the checked violence of his revolt.
"Good night," she whispered sorrowfully, as the shadow deepened on his
altered face.
"Are you going!"
"Yes.... And, somehow I feel that perhaps it is better not to--kiss me
to-night. When I see you--this way--Garry, I could find it in me to do
anything--almost.... Good night."
Watching him, she waited in silence for a while, then turned slowly and
lighted the tiny night-lamp on the table beside her bed.
When she returned to the open door there was no light in the hall. She
heard him moving somewhere in the distance.
"Where are you, Garry?"
He came back slowly through the dim corridor.
"Were you going without a word to me?" she asked.
He came nearer and leaned against the doorway.
"You are quite right," he said sullenly. "I've been a fool to let us
drift in this way. I don't know where we're headed for, and it's time I
did."
"What do you mean?"--in soft consternation.
"That there is no hope left for us--and that we are both pretty young,
both in love, both close to desperation. At times I tell you I feel like
a cornered beast--feel like showing my teeth at the world--like tearing
you from it at any cost. I'd do it, too, if it were not for your father
and mother. You and I could stand it."
"I would let you do it--if it were not for them," she said.
They looked at one another, both pale.
"Would you give up the whole moral show for me?" he demanded.
"Yes."
"You'd get a first-rate scoundrel."
"I wouldn't care if it were you."
"There's one thing," he said with a bluntness bordering on brutality,
"all this is changing me into a man unfit to touch you. I warn you."
"What!"
"I tell you not to trust me!" he said almost savagely. "With heart and
soul and body on fire for you--mad for you--I'm not to be trusted!"
"And I?" she faltered, deadly pale.
"You don't know what you're saying!" he said violently.
"I--I begin to think I do.... Garry-
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