"I _told_ you," she obstinately went on. "I told you. I don't know what
to do. He'll find out. He's bound to find out."

"He'll think it's his," said Toby. "By God, I believe it is."

"You're mad!" cried Sally. "He knows it _can't_ be. And you know it,
too. I tell you I shall be found out and disgraced." She was not crying.
Her pride was aroused. She was full of scorn for one who could
disbelieve what she herself knew to be true.

"Well?" Toby demanded. "What of it? Whose fault is it?" He was brutally
angry, and a little frightened and blustering. They were still at arm's
length in the darkness of the deserted street. There was no lamp near
them, and the houses behind were unlighted. Sally's heart fell. She was
almost paralysed at Toby's tone. She was puzzled and chagrined and
angry. And then a change of mood came abruptly upon her.

"Don't you love me?" she mournfully asked. "I thought you did. I love
_you_, Toby. I thought you loved me.

"I used to," came the grim reply out of the night. He sounded cautious,
doubtful.

"Not any longer?" She withdrew herself wholly from him. They were
completely sundered. Toby was failing her. She was stone cold to
him--cold to all the world.

"Who says I don't?" asked Toby, in a grumbling way. He put out his arm,
but Sally stepped back. "Here."

"No," she cried, sharply. Toby was not to take her for granted, not to
hold her and make love to her. She was in earnest, and he was giving
himself away as one who had taken what he could get.

"I do." At last Toby's sullen assent reached Sally.

"You think I'm a liar," she persisted. "You don't love me." It was
bitter.

There was a silence. Toby was almost invisible. Both were lost in the
dull estrangement of that troubled mood.

"Yes, I do," he muttered. "You _are_ a liar."

"I'm not. It's true what I say. If Gaga finds out...."

"Well? What d'you suppose _I_ can do? _I_ can't do anything. It's you
who's got to do something."

Sally thought for a moment at that savagely bullying tone, which was
without love or understanding. She had a sudden sweep of hatred of Toby
as an animal that took no heed of responsibility or consequences. The
chill she had felt already deepened and filled her heart. Her loneliness
was intensified. She gave a short laugh of bitter distraction. A
greater fierceness shook her, and she began to walk slowly away from
him.

"Oh, well then, I'm done," she said, with cold recklessness. "All
right."