Was it amazement alone which had first forced her name from his lips, and then shut them fast? Was he shocked, perhaps sore that a thing had happened which he had resolved should never happen? Was it pain, disgust, horror, she heard in that single involuntary utterance? Ah, then, she knew what she must do. Sick disappointment sent a shiver through her frame, and all at once she felt her limbs totter. But to fall? To betray emotions which were not _his_ emotions? To be weak where he was bold and strong? No, a thousand times, no; she drew herself upright and made a passionate effort. "Paul, I am--so sorry. I did not know, I never dreamt--of this. Indeed, indeed I never did. Believe me, oh, do believe me, Paul." "Believe you, Leo? I do not understand?" He gazed at her, bewildered, then took a step forward, and she felt him trying to take her hand. She drew it back hurriedly. "Wait. Wait a moment. Let me speak. We did not know you were here, we did not indeed. We have not known anything of you, for a long, long time. It was only yesterday we, Sue and I, came to this place; and we can go away again to-morrow--or to-night. We would not trouble you, Paul." "Trouble me?" He laughed, a curious laugh, bitter and sweet, scornful and surpassingly tender. It might have enlightened her, but she was past listening. "You will believe, Paul, that we--that to annoy you, to distress you,--oh, not for worlds, not for worlds. We will go to-night." And she turned as though to fly on the spot, but he caught her arm. "Leo?" She was faintly trying to free herself. The arm went further and held her fast. "Can you think," said a voice in her ear, "can you suppose that the sight of _you_, you who have been with me night and day in dreams, and thoughts, and hopes, and fears, that this could--what did you call it?--'annoy' me? Leo, my own, my beloved, don't you, can't you see--_now_?" "Paul!" "You whom I might not love, and yet could not but love? Listen. You say you had lost sight of me--that was because I dared not come to you. I dared not trust myself--perhaps, may I say it?--I could not trust either of us. We had once--and that must never happen again. You are listening? My darling, how you tremble, why do you tremble so, Leo? There is nothing to fear now. Let me go on, and you will see. It was only the other day I learned the tidings that set me free. You see I had no means of knowing; and then when I did hear, I could not--it would have been horrible to be in haste to take advantage of it. So, though life opened anew, I meant to wait quietly till the time came when perhaps I might hope to prevail--but, oh, to think of _this_!" And then at last she ventured to raise her eyes, and what did those eyes behold? It was the look--_the look_--on the face of Paul! * * * * *