am not what you thought--what I
thought I could be. I am not strong. I've tried and I've failed! I am
very, very weak, very selfish. I can't give up what I'm used to--luxury!
I can't, Bojo, I can't--it's beyond me!" She turned away, her
handkerchief to her eyes, while he sat without a word, compelling her to
go on. At last she turned, stealing a look at his set face. "Of course
you'll say you told me--but I tried-- I did try!"

"I am saying nothing at all," he said quietly. "So you wish to end the
engagement, that is all, isn't it?"

"All!" she said indignantly with a flood of tears. "Oh, how can you look
at me so brutally? I am miserable, absolutely miserable. I am throwing
away my life, my whole chance of loving, of being happy, and you look at
me as though you were sending me to the gallows!"

If her distress was intended to weaken him in his attitude of quiet,
critical contemplation, it failed. Nevertheless he modified his tone
somewhat.

"I am quite in the dark. I understand you have come to break off the
engagement--that is not perhaps the shock you believe it--but I am
curious to know what are your reasons."

Her tears stopped abruptly. She faced his glance.

"I said you would hate me," she said slowly.

"No, I do not think so."

"Yes, yes, you will hate me," she said breathlessly, "and you should.
Oh, I'm not excusing myself. I hate myself. I despise myself. If you
hated me you would only be right. Yes, you have every right."

"Are you engaged to any one else, Doris?" he said with a smile.

She sprang up indignantly.

"Oh, how could you say such a thing! Bojo!"

"If I have offended you I beg your pardon."

"You beg my pardon," she said, her lip trembling. She came and knelt at
his side. "Bojo, look at me. You believe that I love you, don't
you?--that you are the only thing, the only person in my life that I
have ever loved, and that if I give you up it is because I must, because
I can't help it, because--because I know myself so well that I know I
haven't the strength to do what other women do--to be--poor! There you
have it!"

"But you knew all this six months ago," he said, scenting some mystery.
"Something else must have happened--what?"

She nodded.

"Yes."

He waited a moment.

"Well?"

She rose, listened a moment and glanced carefully about the room.
Afterward he remembered this glance.

"You must give me your word of honor not to mention--not to breathe one
word I say to you,"