"But we should soon hate one another if we destroyed one another's
ideals. For many people it wouldn't matter--For us, weak as we are, it
matters everything."

"All this talk," he said. "I'm a man. I'm here to love you, not to talk
about it. I've got you and I'm going to keep you."

"You haven't got me," she cried. "You've got a bit of me. There'll be
times when I'm away from you when I shall think that you've got all of
me. But you haven't--no one's got all of me....

"And I haven't got you either--You think now for the moment that it is
so--But I know what it would be if we were hiding about on the Continent
or secretly meeting here in London--That's not for us, Francis."

"I've got you," he repeated. "I'm not going to wait any longer----"

"It's the only way you'll ever have me," she answered, "by letting me do
my duty to Roddy--I promise you that. If ever life is impossible--if
it's ever better for both of us that I should go, I'll come to you--But
I shall tell him first."

"Tell him! But he won't let you go."

"He won't stop me--if it comes to that."

He pleaded with her then, telling her about his life, its loneliness,
his unhappiness, how impossible it would be now without her.

But she shook her head.

"Don't you think," she cried, "that grandmother would be delighted if we
went off? Both of us done for--you never able to return again ... Ah!
no! For all of us, for every reason, it's not to be."

"I won't let you go--I've got you. I'll keep you."

"You can't, Francis----"

"I can and I will----"

Then looking up, catching a vision of her framed in the window with the
lighted city behind her, he saw in her eyes how unattainable she might
be....

He had, he had always had, his ideals. There was a long silence between
them, then he bowed his head.

"You shall do as you will--anything with me that you will."

"Oh, my dear," she whispered, "I love you for that."

Then hurriedly, moving as though she feared her own weakness, she went
to put on her wraps--He came to her.

"Let me write--let me."

"No--Better not."

"Just a line--Nothing that any ordinary person----"

"No, we mustn't, Francis."

He put her furs about her neck, then his hand rested on her shoulder.
Her head fell back.

"Once more"--she said. He kissed her throat, then her eyes, then their
lips met.

"Stay," he whispered, "stay"--Very slowly she drew away from him, smiled
at him once, and was gone.

CHAPTER VIII