It was plain that one of them must give way. The woman had the most at
stake--and the woman set the example of submission.
"Don't be hard on me," she pleaded. "I don't mean to be hard on _you._
My temper gets the better of me. You know my temper. I am sorry I forgot
myself. Geoffrey, my whole future is in your hands. Will you do me
justice?"
She came nearer, and laid her hand persuasively on his arm.
"Haven't you a word to say to me? No answer? Not even a look?" She
waited a moment more. A marked change came over her. She turned slowly
to leave the summer-house. "I am sorry to have troubled you, Mr.
Delamayn. I won't detain you any longer."
He looked at her. There was a tone in her voice that he had never heard
before. There was a light in her eyes that he had never seen in them
before. Suddenly and fiercely he reached out his hand, and stopped her.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
She answered, looking him straight in the face, "Where many a miserable
woman has gone before me. Out of the world."
He drew her nearer to him, and eyed her closely. Even _his_ intelligence
discovered that he had brought her to bay, and that she really meant it!
"Do you mean you will destroy yourself?" he said.
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