And suddenly the hot tears welled again in Juliet's eyes. She could not
speak in answer, but in a moment she stretched her hand to his.
He took it and held it close. "Don't cry!" he said gently. "I'm not
worth it. I've been a fool--no, not a fool to love you, but a three
times idiot to lose hold of myself like this. There! It's over. I'm not
going to bother you any more. And you're not going to let yourself be
bothered. What? You're not going to run away because of me, are you?
Promise me you won't!"
Her fingers closed upon his. It was almost involuntarily. "I don't think
I ought to stay," she whispered.
"I knew that was it!" He bent towards her. "Juliet! I say, please, dear,
please! If one of us must go, it must be I. But there is no need. Believe
me, there is no need. I've got myself in hand. I won't come near you--I
swear--if you don't wish it."
"But--suppose--suppose--" Her voice broke. She drew her hand free and
covered her face. "Oh, it's all so hopeless!" she sobbed. "I ought to
have managed--better."
"No, no!" In a flash his arm was round her, strong and ready; he drew
her to rest against his shoulder. "There's nothing to cry about
really--really! If you knew how I loathe myself for making you cry! But
listen! Nobody knows.
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