s saying? She saw the
old life closing in on her, and hardly heeded his fanciful picture of
renewal.

"Charity--Charity--say you'll do it," she heard him urge, all his lost
years and wasted passion in his voice.

"Oh, what's the use of all this? When I leave here it won't be with
you."

She moved toward the door as she spoke, and he stood up and placed
himself between her and the threshold. He seemed suddenly tall and
strong, as though the extremity of his humiliation had given him new
vigour.

"That's all, is it? It's not much." He leaned against the door, so
towering and powerful that he seemed to fill the narrow room. "Well,
then look here.... You're right: I've no claim on you--why should you
look at a broken man like me? You want the other fellow... and I don't
blame you. You picked out the best when you seen it... well, that was
always my way." He fixed his stern eyes on her, and she had the sense
that the struggle within him was at its highest. "Do you want him to
marry you?" he asked.

They stood and looked at each other for a long moment, eye to eye, with
the terrible equality of courage that sometimes made her feel as if she
had his blood in her veins.

"Do you want him to--say? I'll have him here in an hour if you do. I
ain't been in the law thirty years for nothing. He's hired Carrick Fry's
team to take him to Hepburn, but he ain't going to start for another
hour. And I can put things to him so he won't be long deciding.... He's
soft: I could see that. I don't say you won't be sorry afterward--but,
by God, I'll give you the chance to be, if you say so."

She heard him out in silence, too remote from all he was feeling and
saying for any sally of scorn to relieve her. As she listened, there
flitted through her mind the vision of Liff Hyatt's muddy boot coming
down on the white bramble-flowers. The same thing had happened now;
something transient and exquisite had flowered in her, and she had stood
by and seen it trampled to earth. While the thought passed through
her she was aware of Mr. Royall, still leaning against the door, but
crestfallen, diminished, as though her silence were the answer he most
dreaded.

"I don't want any chance you can give me: I'm glad he's going away," she
said.

He kept his place a moment longer, his hand on the door-knob. "Charity!"
he pleaded. She made no answer, and he turned the knob and went out. She
heard him fumble with the latch of the front door, and saw him wa