sick. He was afraid of what people
would say about him when they found it out. So he's just gradually
stopped writing and coming for visits, and waited for me to realise.
And if I didn't, I know he'd have broken it off himself the first day I
got home. I've kept persuading myself that, in spite of the way he's
acted, he did love me as much as he could love anyone, and that it
would hurt him if I---- But now I know that he never loved me, that he
couldn't love anyone but himself. Oh, I don't hate him for it. He can't
help being what he is. And all people seem to be--like that, mostly.
I'm only going to remember that he and I grew up together, and that he
was kind to me then when he thought he liked me--and forget all the
rest. (_With agitated impatience._) Oh, Stephen, you know all this I've
said about him. Why don't you admit it? You've read his letters.

MURRAY (_haltingly_). Yes, I'll admit that was my opinion--only I
wanted to be sure you'd found out for yourself.

EILEEN (_defiantly_). Well, I have! You see that now, don't you?

MURRAY. Yes; and I'm glad you're free of him, for your own sake. I knew
he wasn't the person. (_With an attempt at a joking tone._) You must
get one of the right sort--next time.

EILEEN (_springing to her feet with a cry of pain_). Stephen!

(_He avoids her eyes, which search his face pleadingly._)

MURRAY (_mumbling_). He wasn't good enough--to lace your shoes--nor
anyone else, either.

EILEEN (_with a nervous laugh_). Don't be silly. (_After a pause,
during which she waits hungrily for some word from him--with a sigh of
despair--faintly._) Well, I've told you--all there is. I might as well
go back.

MURRAY (_not looking at her--indistinctly_). Yes. You mustn't lose too
much sleep. I'll come to your cottage in the morning to say good-bye.
They'll permit that, I guess.

EILEEN (_stands looking at him imploringly, her face convulsed with
anguish, but he keeps his eyes fixed on the rocks at his feet. Finally
she seems to give up and takes a few uncertain steps up the road
towards the right--in an exhausted whisper_). Good night, Stephen.

MURRAY (_his voice choked and husky_). Good night, Eileen.

EILEEN (_walks weakly up the road, but, as she passes the signpost, she
suddenly stops and turns to look again at_ Murray, _who has not moved
or lifted his eyes. A great shuddering sob shatters her pent-up
emotions. She runs back to_ Murray, _her arms outstretched, with a
choking