He straightened himself like a man under the lash; but he did not
relinquish her hand.

"I can't let you reproach yourself," he said quietly, "because I
misunderstood signs that seemed to tell me your heart was awake at
last. But now--now you know how it is with me, at least you will let
me hope----?"

"I wish I might," she answered, so low that he could scarcely hear.
"But--it's impossible!"

"Am I so entirely unworthy--unlovable?"

"No, oh no. It is not that."

"D'you mean--I was not mistaken. Is there--any one else?"

"Yes."

It was impossible to lie to him, and the blood rushed back into her
face at the confession.

"Is he _here_?" Paul demanded, with sudden energy.

"You mustn't ask any questions about--him--about it, please."

"Only this one. Shall you--marry him?"

"No. Never."

Sheer incredulity held him silent; and when he spoke there was
rebellion in his tone.

"Your life and my own are to remain broken, unfulfilled, because
of--this incomprehensible thing?"

"There is nothing else possible."

He relinquished her hand at that, giving it back to her, as it were,
with a quiet finality of renunciation that shattered her self-control.
She sank into a chair and hid her face in a vain attempt to conceal
the tears that came in spite of herself.

He stood beside her for several seconds in a heart-broken silence;
then gently touched her arm.

"Honor--Honor, is it really so impossible--as you think? I tell you
plainly I can't understand----"

She uncovered her face and looked up at him.

"Can any one ever understand--this sort of thing? Isn't it a force
outside the control of reason, of even the strongest will?"

"You are right," he answered gravely; and sitting down leaned towards
her, his elbows on the table. "But there remains the fact that sooner
than lose you outright, I am willing to marry you--on any terms. If
you have no hope for yourself, could you not bring yourself to
partially fulfil mine? Will you--in mercy to me--reconsider your
decision?"

She looked up quickly with parted lips; but his raised hand enjoined
silence.

"My suggestion deserves thinking over for a few minutes, if no longer.
And in the meanwhile--" he smiled with a touch of his old humorous
resignation to things in general--"we might do worse than have some
_chota hazri_. What a brute I was to upset you before you had had a
morsel to eat!"

She shook her head, with a faint reflection of his smile.

"I don't