"I know that, Stuart," she said quietly. "I know enough to know that. But I know this as well. I know that sometimes that first kind of love leaves a living thing to live by. I know that it does--sometimes. And I know that with us--it hasn't." As if stung by that he got up and began walking angrily about the room. "You're talking nonsense! Why wouldn't we get married, I'd like to know, after all this time together? We _will_ get married--that's all there is to it! A nice spectacle we would make of ourselves if we didn't! Have you thought of that?" he demanded. "Have you thought of what people would say?" Again her lips traced that faint smile that showed the sadness of her face. "There was a time, Stuart," she said wearily, "when we were not governed by what people would say." He frowned, but went on more mildly: "You've got the thing all twisted up, Ruth. You do that sometimes. You often have a queer way of looking at a thing; not the usual way--a--well, a sort of twisted way." She got up. One hand was at her throat as if feeling some impediment there; the knuckles of her clenched hand were tapping the table. "A queer way of looking at things," she said in quick, sharp voice that was like the tapping of her knuckles. "Not the usual way. A--sort of twisted way. Perhaps. Perhaps that's true. Perhaps that was the way I had of looking at things twelve years ago--when I left them all behind and went with you. Perhaps that was what made me do it--that queer, twisted way of looking at things! But this much is true, Stuart, and this you have got to know is true. I went with you because I was as I was. I'm going my way alone now because I am as I am. And what you don't see is this,--that the thing that made me go with you then is the thing that makes me go my way alone now." For a moment they stood there facing each other, her eyes forcing home what she had said. But she was trembling and suddenly, weakly, she sat down. "Well, I simply can't understand it!" he cried petulantly and flung open the door and stood looking out. "Look here, Ruth," he turned sharply to her after a little, "have you thought of the position this puts _me_ in? Have you thought of the position you would put _me_ in?" he contended hotly. "Do you know what people would say about me? You ought to know what they'd say! They'd say _I_ was the one!--they'd say _I_ didn't want to do it!" There was a little catch something like a laugh as she replied: "Of course. They'll say men don't marry women of that sort, won't they?" "Oh, you can't do this, Ruth," he went on quickly. "You see, it can't be done. I tell you it wouldn't be right! It just wouldn't be _right_--in any sense. Why can't you see that? Can't you see that we've got to vindicate the whole thing? That we've got to show them that it _does_ last! That's the vindication for it," he finished stoutly, "that it's the kind of a love that doesn't die!