t, Anne, Anne,
dearest, dearest, surely you know that when I spoke to you yesterday I
didn't know what I know today! I thought I had a father. You _know_ I'd
not deceive you--you _do_ know that?"

There was a shuffle on the stone floor of the cell. Sheriff Cowles,
coughing loudly, was turning away from them. A moment later the door
closed behind him. "Ha-hum!" said he to himself outside the door. "Oh,
hell! I wish't I wasn't sher'ff."

They were alone. With the door closed the cell was dark, save for the
twilight filtering through the barred windows high up along the wall.

Anne came closer to him and put her hands upon his shoulders. "Oh, Don,"
said she, "it's hard, awfully hard, isn't it, to start with such a
handicap? But when did all the men in the world start even? And is it
always the one who starts first that finishes best? Don, you played the
game in college--so did I--we've both got to play the game now! We'll
have to take our handicap. But you mustn't talk about sending me away. I
can't stand everything. Oh, don't! I can't stand that!" Her voice was
choking now. She was sobbing, striving not to do so.

He caught her wrists in his hands, as her hands still lay upon his
shoulders; but he did not draw her to him.

"Anne," said he, "the time comes in every man's life for him to die. I
heard once about a man who could not swim and who saw his wife drown in
the stream by him, almost at his side. He ran along and shouted, and
said he could not swim. Well, he lived. The woman died. Suppose that
had been our case. If we both went down together, it wouldn't be so bad,
perhaps. But I'll not have my life as that sort of a gift."

"You won't let me help you, Don?"

"No! I won't let you have anything to do with me! I'll never allow your
name to come on my lips, and you must never think of mentioning mine!
Only--Anne, Anne--surely you don't think I had any idea before
yesterday--about my father? I wouldn't buy my own happiness at that
price. I'm no one's son. I'm dead, and doubly dead. But I never knew."

"No," said she, "I know you did not--I know you would not."

They both were so young, as they talked on now, wisely, soberly.

"So you are free," he said, casting away her hands from him, and
standing back. "You never were anything but free."

"I'll never be free again, Don," said she, shaking her head. "You kissed
me! I'm not a girl any more--I'm a woman now. I can't go back. And now
you tell me to go away! Don