nnot! Have you no pity? Why would you throw me
back alone--all, all alone, to die of your contempt and my shame!"

And she bowed her head in an agony of tears.

He looked down upon her a moment in silence.

"Your shame!" he murmured. "My wife--"

Then he raised her in his arms and drew her with a strange hesitation of
touch, to his breast, as though she were some sick or wounded child, and
watched her as she lay there weeping, her face hidden, her whole frame
trembling in his embrace.

"Poor soul!" he whispered, more to himself than to her. "Poor frail
woman! Hush, hush, Clara! The past is past! I'll make you no more
reproaches. I--I _can't_ hurt you, because I once so loved you--but
now--now,--what _is_ there left for me to do, but to leave you? You'll
be happier so--you'll have perfect liberty--you needn't even think of
me--unless, perhaps, as one dead and buried long ago--"

She raised herself in his arms and looked at him piteously.

"Won't you give me a chance?" she sobbed. "Not one? If I had but known
you better--if I had understood oh, I've been vile, wicked,
deceitful--but I'm not happy, Harry--I've never been happy since I
wronged you! Won't you give me one little hope that I may win your love
again,--no, not your love, but your pity? Oh, Harry, have I lost
all--all--"

Her voice broke--she could say no more.

He stroked her hair gently. "You speak on impulse just now, Clara," he
said gravely yet tenderly. "You can't know your own strength or
weakness. God forbid that _I_ should judge you harshly! As you wish it,
I will not leave you yet. I'll wait. Whether we part or remain together,
shall be decided by your own actions, your own looks, your own words.
You understand, Clara? You know my feelings. I'm content for the present
to place my fate in your hands." He smiled rather sadly. "But for love,
Clara--I fear nothing can be done to warm to life this poor perished
love of ours. We can, perhaps, take hands and watch its corpse patiently
together and say how sorry we are it is dead--such penitence comes
always too late!"

He sighed, and put her gently away from him.

She turned up her flushed, tear-stained face to his.

"Will you kiss me, Harry?" she asked tremblingly. He met her eyes, and
an exclamation that was almost a groan broke from his lips. A shudder
passed through his frame.

"I can't, Clara! I can't--God forgive me!--Not yet!" And with that he
bowed his head and left her.

She listened