ed you with such feelings as you speak of,"
she added, colouring slightly. "It is a fancy of yours, quite too absurd
a fancy. Now that I find myself discussing it with you as though,
indeed, we were talking of it seriously, I am inclined to laugh. You are
just a very foolish young man, Mr. Lane."

He shook his head.

"Look here," he said, "I am very good at meaning things, but it's
awfully hard for me to put my thoughts into words. I can't explain how
it's all come about. I don't know why, amongst all the girls I've seen
in my own country, or England, or Paris, or anywhere, there hasn't been
one who could bring me the things which you bring, who could fill my
mind with the thoughts you fill it with, who could make my days stand
still and start again, who could upset the whole machinery of my life so
that when you come I want to dance with happiness, and when you go the
day is over with me. There is no chance of my being able to explain this
to you, because other fellows, much cleverer than I, have been in the
same box, and they've had to come to the conclusion, too, that there
isn't any explanation. I have accepted it. I want you to. I love you,
Fedora, and I will be faithful to you all my life. You shall live where
you choose and how you choose, but you must be my wife. There isn't any
way out of it for either of us."

She sat quite still for several moments. They were a little behind the
curtain and it chanced that there was no one in their immediate
vicinity. She felt her fingers suddenly gripped. They were released
again almost at once, but a queer sensation of something overmastering
seemed to creep through her whole being at the touch of his hand. She
rose to her feet.

"I am going away," she declared.

"I haven't offended you?" he begged. "Please sit down. We haven't half
talked over things yet."

"We have talked too much," she answered. "I don't know really what has
come over me that I have let you--that I listen to you--"

"It is because you feel the truth of what I say," he insisted. "Don't
get up, Fedora. Don't go away, dear. Let us have at least these few
minutes together. I'll do exactly as you tell me. I'll come to your
father or I'll carry you off. I have a sister here. She'll be your
friend--"

"Don't!" the girl stopped him. "Please don't!"

She sat down in her chair again. Her fingers were twisted together, her
slim form was tense with stifled emotions.

"Have I been a brute?" he asked soft