"Why do you turn from me, why do you hesitate?" he went on, in a voice which shook with his efforts at control. "You cannot doubt my love, for I could hardly give you a greater proof than I am giving. Danger, risk of ruin, all would seem to me as absolutely nothing compared with one word from you; and though all I do I do for your sake, you will not speak that word, Bice. Is this generous?" "I don't wish you to run those risks." "Do you forget what you said? `At all risks.' That was your request." "Then I was wrong, and you were wrong," said the girl, more faintly. "Perhaps. But the alternative?" "I have an alternative. I shall write to Clive." Oliver grew pale. "You have, then, no more wish to save him?" "He may not have done it, he may be able to explain, and it is shameful of us to condemn him unheard." "I warn you, Bice, that you will put it out of my power to save him." "We must run the risk," she answered, in a low, resolute voice. Oliver could scarcely restrain his passion. He was certain that Ibbetson was at the bottom of her determination, and it seemed as if all his plots, his hopes, were to be baffled by this man. He longed to charge her with it, to taunt her with Jack's engagement, but he did not dare, for Bice's was not a nature which could be safely goaded into resentment, and he feared the flash of her eyes and what it might tell him. He controlled himself. "Write, then," he said, "write at once. Clive will not acknowledge that anything is wrong." "We shall see." "And am I still to be your shuttlecock?" he said hoarsely. "Have pity, Bice, have pity! Such love as mine deserves some return--" She interrupted him. "It deserves to find love, I know, and that is what I have not got to give. I am very sorry, Oliver, only I must be true with you, at all costs." "You are rather late in your resolves," he said, biting his lip until the blood sprang. "I have thought and hoped," she said, looking down, "that one day I might feel differently, and be able to give you what you wanted, if only out of gratitude to you for your kindness. I thought, perhaps, it was that you had taken me by surprise, that I was ignorant and inexperienced, and that my feelings would change." "You were right!" he cried vehemently. "Think so still, Bice, my darling, my own! You do not know, how should you? Marry me, and I will teach you to love me. I have no fear, no doubt." "But now I know," she said, going on as if he had not spoken, "and it is all different. I can't marry you, even to save Clive. I could not even if I had promised. Do not be sorry, Oliver, I am not worth it."