"I've always been like his sister. That's straight, M's. Lytton; that's no lie. He's been my brother; that's all. More 'n that, I'm about th' only woman he's looked at in three years until ... you come. He ain't a saint but he's ... an awful fine man." She was silent a moment and stroked the hand she had taken in hers. "That's all. That's all the' is to say. I've tried to get him, tried to make him care for me ... a lot; but I ain't his kind,"--with a slow shake of the head as she withdrew one hand. "I can never be his kind ... in that way. I've known it all along, but I've never let myself believe th' truth. He didn't know, didn't even guess. That's how hopeless it was. He ain't never seen that I'd do ... anythin' for him. "When you come, I saw th' difference in him ... right off. He ... You're his kind, M's. Lytton. You're what he's waited for, what he's lookin' for. I was jealous. I hated you from th' first. I was nice to you 'cause he wanted it, 'cause that would make him happier. I fought against showin' what I felt for his sake ... for him. Then, to-day, when I seen how he looked after he'd had you in his arms where I've wanted to be always, as I've wanted to make him look, I.... "It made me kind of crazy. I felt like tellin' you what I was, lyin' about what I was to Bruce, thinkin' it might drive you away an' I might sometime make him love me. But, after I'd done it, after I got it into words, I knew it was against everything he'd ever taught me, against everything he'd ever been, an' that if you went 't would break his heart. That's why I come back to tell you I lied, to tell you how it is.... "You go to him now; you go before it's too late. I tried to come between you ... an' didn't. You go to him before somethin' does...." She felt Ann's arm go about her and stifling her sobs she yielded to the pull until her head rested on the other woman's shoulder. "Oh, Nora, I can't tell you how this makes me feel; I can't. I'll never be able to. There's nothing I can say at all, nothing I can do, even!" The waitress lifted her face to peer closely at her. "Just one thing you can do," she said, lowly. "Go to him now. That's what I come back here for--to tell you I lied, so you would go." Ann straightened and shook her head sharply. "That's impossible," she said, emphatically. "Impossible." "Impossible, M's. Lytton?"--wiping her eyes. "Yes, Nora." "But why? He loves you!" "When you were here before you gave the reason--I'm a married woman." "But that ain't.... Why, do you _love_ your husband?" She grasped Ann's arm and shook it gently as she put that question in a voice that the tears had made hoarse, and leaned forward to catch the answer. For an interval Ann did not reply, gave no sign that she had heard, and Nora repeated her query with impressive slowness. "It isn't a question of loving, Nora," she finally said. "I'm his wife; I have a wife's duty to perform." "But do you love him?" the girl persisted.