"Oh, Dane, would that have been better? Do you think that would have helped me?" Cassandra asked pitifully. "There is only one thing that makes life endurable at this moment, and that is that I _do_ know. It's wicked; it's selfish; but it's true! I was starving with loneliness. All those dreadful days at the sea when she was there, and I saw you together, I was longing to die. It seemed as if I could not endure to go on with life, but when death really came near, I was frightened. It's terrible to feel your breath go. I think for a few moments I must have lost consciousness, for I remember nothing after you seized hold of me, until I was lying--like this--with my head on your shoulder, and you were saying--saying..." Peignton's breath came in a groan. "Did I say it? I mean, am I more responsible than for the breath I drew? What I said to you then, Cassandra, _said itself_. If I had been in my sane senses, I would have killed myself rather than have said them then--before her!" Cassandra lifted her fringed eyelids in a questioning gaze. "For my own sake I am glad; but it was hard for her. Poor Teresa! Was she--did she... What has happened between you, Dane?" "Nothing has happened. We had it out, of course. The next day. Before we came home I wanted to set her free, but she refused." "Refused! But how could she? When she _knew! Why_ did she refuse?" Dane flushed in miserable discomfort. "If you had been free, she would have broken the engagement herself, but she believes that it would make things harder for--for us both, if she stood aside. She thinks we might be tempted to--to--" "What _are_ we going to do, Dane?" Cassandra asked simply. "Isn't it strange how one comes up against problems in life, and how different they are in reality from what one has imagined? I've heard of married women falling in love with other men, and meeting them, as we have met now. It seemed so despicable and mean. I felt nothing but contempt, but we are not contemptible; we have done no wrong. We needed each other, and all the barriers in the world couldn't keep us apart. We are sitting--like this!--but I don't feel that I am doing wrong. It helps me. If I could meet you here--not often--just now and then for half an hour, a quarter of an hour, and could put my head on your shoulder, and feel your arms holding me tight--I could go on... I could be better--"