d not come. Yet
it should have been so simple, so ample an answer to her question. Had
he said, "Because I love you," it would have been enough; but he had
said, "Because I know you"; and so she smiled.

"Johnny, I have something to say to you. Do you remember the day when
you asked me to be your wife? I was frank and open to you then, was I
not?"

"You always are."

"I told you that if you wished it I would agree, but that I did not love
you as a woman should love the man to whom she gives her life."

"I do not forget that."

"Perhaps in your heart you harboured a hope that one day the love that I
denied you then might come?"

"I think I did."

"You were giving so much and asking for so little in return. That was
not fair, and it would not be fair for me to allow you to harbour a hope
that can never come true."

He turned slowly and looked at her.

"A woman cannot love--twice," she said slowly.

Johnny Everard flushed, then paled.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it is true." She paused; the red dyed her cheeks. "What you
were told last night were lies--poor lies. You do not ask me to deny
them, dear, and so I won't. Yet, behind those lies, there was a little
truth. There is a man, and I cared for him--care for him now and always
shall care for him. He has been nothing to me, and never will be; but
because he lived, because he and I have met, the hope that you had in
your heart that day, can come to nothing. And now--now I have something
more to tell you. It is this. You, who can love so finely, must ask for
and have love in return. You think you love me, yet because I do not
respond you will tire in time of that love. You will realise how bad a
bargain you have made, and then you will regret it. Is there not
someone"--her voice had grown low and soft--"someone who can and does
give you all the love your heart craves for, someone who will be
grateful to you for your love, and who will repay a thousandfold? Would
not that be better than a long hopeless fight against lovelessness,
even--even if you loved her a little less than you believe you love--me?
Remember that it would rest with you and not with another, you who are
generous, who could not refuse to give when so much is given to you."
Joan's voice faltered for a moment. "It would be your own heart on which
you would have to make the call, Johnny, not on the heart of another.
You would have more command over your own heart than you ever could
over