"But I do not regret it," he exclaimed hastily. "I do not regret, because I still love you as fervently as I did on that memorable evening when my father called me to his bedside and urged me to give up all thought of you. It is because--because of your decision to marry this man, Zertho, that I grieve." "It is not my decision," she protested. "I am forced to act as I am acting." "But you shall never marry him!" "Unfortunately it is beyond your power to assist me, George," she answered, in a tone of despair. "We love each other, it is true, but we must end it all. We must not meet again," she added, in a voice broken by emotion. "I--I cannot bear it. Indeed, I can't." "Why should you say this?" he asked, reproachfully. "Loving each other as fondly as we do, we must meet. No power on earth can prevent it." They looked fondly into each other's eyes. Liane saw in his intense passion and earnestness, and knew how well he loved her. Plunged in thought, she traced a semicircle in the dust with the ferrule of her sunshade. "No," she said at length, quite calmly. "You must forget, George. I shall leave here to marry and live away in the old chateau in Luxembourg as one buried. When I am wedded, my only prayer will be that we may never again meet." "Why?" he cried, dismayed. "Because when I see you I always live the past over again. All those bright, happy, joyous days come back to me, together with the tragic circumstances of poor Nelly's death--the dark shadow which fell between us, the shadow which has lengthened and deepened until it has now formed a barrier insurmountable." "What does Nelly's death concern us?" he asked. "It was tragic and mysterious, certainly; nevertheless, it surely does not prevent our marriage." For an instant she glanced sharply at him, then lowering her gaze, answered drily,-- "Of course not." "Then why refer to it?" "Because the mystery has never been solved," she said, in a tone which surprised him. "Where the police have failed we can scarcely hope to be successful," he observed. Yet the harsh, strained voice in which she had spoken puzzled him. More than once it had occurred to him that Liane had never satisfactorily explained where she had been on that well-remembered evening, yet, loving her so well, he had always dismissed any suspicion as wild and utterly unfounded. Nevertheless, her statements to several persons regarding her actions on that evening had varied considerably, and he could not conceal the truth from himself that for a reason unaccountable she had successfully hidden some matter which might be of greatest importance. "Do you think the truth will ever come out?" she inquired, her eyes still downcast. "It may," he answered, watching her narrowly. "The unexpected often happens." "Of course," she agreed, with a faint smile. "But the police have obtained no further clue, have they?" she asked in eagerness.