ing of the
past--oh, insanely jealous. I know that no sooner are you gone than I
will be tortured by the most ridiculous doubts. I will see you in the
moonlight all across that endless sea with other men near you. I will
dream of other men with millions, ready to give you everything your eyes
adore. I will imagine men of big minds that will fascinate you. I will
even say to myself that now that you have known what a great love can
mean you will all the more be likely to need it, to seek something to
counterfeit it--"

"Ben, my poor Ben--frightful," she murmured.

"That is how it is. Shall I tell you something else?"

"What?"

"I wish devoutly you had never told me a word of--of the past."

"But how can you say such things? We have been honest with each other.
You yourself--"

"I know, I know, I have no right myself, and yet there it is. It is
something fearful, this madness of possession that comes to me. No, I
have no fear that I will not always be first in your heart, only I
understand the needs, the habits, of your nature. I understand myself
now as I have not before, and that's why I say to you solemnly,
Madeleine, if ever for a moment another man should come into your
life--never, never, let me know."

"But--"

"No, don't say anything that I may remember to torture me. Lie to me."

"I have never lied."

"Madeleine, it is better to be merciful than to tell the truth, and,
after all, what does such a confession mean? It only means that you free
your conscience and that the wound--the ache--remains with the other.
Whatever happens, never tell me. Do you understand?"

This time she made no answer. She even ceased to look at him, her head
dropped back, her arms motionless, one finger only revolving slowly on
the undulating arm of her chair.

"I shall try by all the strength that is in me never to ask that
question," he rushed on. "I know I shall make a hundred vows not to do
so, and I know that the first time I look into your face I shall blurt
it out. Ah, if--if--if it must be so, never let me know, for there are
thoughts I cannot bear now that I've known you." He flung himself at her
side and took her roughly in his arms. "Madeleine, I know what I am
saying. I may tell you the contrary later. I may say it lightly,
pretending it is of no importance. I may beg the truth of you with tears
in my eyes--I may swear to you that nothing but honesty counts between
us, that I can understand, forgive, forget ever