"Certainly I will," he said earnestly. The revulsion in her belief inclined her to be kinder toward him than she had been in a long time. The change in her manner toward him made Wickersham's heart begin to beat. He leant over and took her hand. "Won't you give me more than justice, Alice?" he began. "If you knew how long I have waited--how I have hoped even against hope--how I have always loved you--" She was so taken aback by his declaration that for a moment she did not find words to reply, and he swept on: "--you would not be so cold--so cruel to me. I have always thought you the most beautiful--the most charming woman in New York." She shook her head. "No, you have not." "I have; I swear I have! Even when I have hung around--around other women, I have done so because I saw you were taken up with--some one else. I thought I might find some one else to supplant you, but never for one moment have I failed to acknowledge your superiority--" "Oh, no; you have not. How can you dare to tell me that!" she smiled, recovering her self-possession. "I have, Alice, ever since you were a girl--even when you were--were--when you were beyond me--I loved you more than ever--I--" Her face changed, and she recoiled from him. "Don't," she said. "I will." He seized her hand and held it tightly. "I loved you even then better than I ever loved in my life--better than your--than any one else did." Her face whitened. "Stop!" she cried. "Not another word. I will not listen. Release my hand." She pulled it from him forcibly, and, as he began again, she, with a gesture, stopped him. "No--no--no! It is impossible. I will not listen." His face changed as he looked into her face. She rose from her seat and turned away from him, taking two or three steps up and down, trying to regain control of herself. He waited and watched her, an angry light coming into his eyes. He misread her feelings. He had made love to married women before and had not been repulsed. She turned to him now, and with level eyes looked into his. "You never loved me in your life. I have had men in love with me, and know when they are; but you are not one of them." "I was--I am--" he began, stepping closer to her; but she stopped him. "Not for a minute," she went on, without heeding him. "And you had no right to say that to me." "What?" he demanded. "What you said. My husband loved me with all the strength of a noble, high-minded man, and notwithstanding the difference in our ages, treated me as his equal; and I loved him--yes, loved him devotedly," she said, as she saw a spark come into his eyes. "You love some one else now," he said coolly. It might have been anger that brought the rush of color to her face. She turned and looked him full in the face. "If I do, it is not you." The arrow went home. His eyes snapped with anger.