wiftly, "so why make a
farce of it by words? We've drifted apart for a long time, a hideously
long time, and it's been my fault throughout; but now that it's over
won't you come back to the beginning, Elice, to the place where we
separated?" He halted for breath, for words where none were adequate. "I
want you, Elice, want you--now and always. Tell me, please, that you've
forgiven me, that you'll come back."

In the girl's lap the hands crossed steadily; again that was the only
move she made.

"So far as I am concerned there's nothing to forgive, nor has there ever
been," she said gently. "As for going back, though, I can't; because I
can't. It's useless to lie, for you'd find me out. I've simply
awakened."

"You mean you--don't care for me any more?"

"No; I care for you very much; but not in that way. It was so before the
end came. I awoke before that."

"And still you would have married me then."

"Yes," simply.

"And now?"

The girl did not answer, did not even look up.

"And now," he repeated insistently, "tell me; and now?"

This time the brown eyes lifted, met his steadily.

"Unless something happens I can't marry you now," she said.

Armstrong looked at her; at first dazedly, then with a trace of color
gathering under his fair skin.

"Unless something happens?" he repeated. "Pardon me, but what do you mean
by that?"

"Nothing," swiftly. "I was thinking of something else. I hate to hurt
you; but as I said before, it's useless to temporize. I can't marry you
now, Steve."

In his place Armstrong settled back dumbly. Unconsciously he passed his
handkerchief over his mouth. The hand that carried it trembled a bit.

"You really mean that, do you?" he groped, half to himself, "mean the
break to be really final this time?" He shut his eyes, like a child
suddenly awakened in the dark and afraid. "Somehow I hadn't expected that
at all, hadn't planned on it. I suppose it was childish of me; but I've
been taking things for granted, on the strength of the past, and--and--"
Of a sudden the rambling tongue halted. The eyes opened wide, unnaturally
wide; and in their depths was again that new look of terror, but now
magnified. "Tell me that you don't mean it, Elice, really," he pleaded.
"I was just beginning to live and hope again; and now--tell me!"

Long before this the girl had ceased looking at him. Instead, with the
instinctive fascination an open fire exerts over all human beings, she
had turned tow