He obeyed, wondering, his mind alert, seeking a reason for this strange emotion. Suddenly she raised her head and, seizing his in her hands with such tenacity that he felt the cut of her sharp little fingers, kissed him with the poignant agony of a great separation. "Bojo, remember this," she cried through her tears, "whatever happens--whatever comes--it is you--you! I shall love only you all my life--no one else!" "Whatever happens?" he said, frowning, but beginning to have a glimmer of the truth. "What do you mean?" She moved from him, standing, with head slightly down, staring at him silently for a long moment. Then she said, shaking her head slowly: "Oh, how you will hate me!" He went to her quickly and, taking her by the wrist, led her to the big sofa. "Now sit down. Tell me just what this all means!" His tone was harsh, and she glanced at him, frightened. "It means," she said at last, "that I am not what you thought--what I thought I could be. I am not strong. I've tried and I've failed! I am very, very weak, very selfish. I can't give up what I'm used to--luxury! I can't, Bojo, I can't--it's beyond me!" She turned away, her handkerchief to her eyes, while he sat without a word, compelling her to go on. At last she turned, stealing a look at his set face. "Of course you'll say you told me--but I tried-- I did try!" "I am saying nothing at all," he said quietly. "So you wish to end the engagement, that is all, isn't it?" "All!" she said indignantly with a flood of tears. "Oh, how can you look at me so brutally? I am miserable, absolutely miserable. I am throwing away my life, my whole chance of loving, of being happy, and you look at me as though you were sending me to the gallows!" If her distress was intended to weaken him in his attitude of quiet, critical contemplation, it failed. Nevertheless he modified his tone somewhat. "I am quite in the dark. I understand you have come to break off the engagement--that is not perhaps the shock you believe it--but I am curious to know what are your reasons." Her tears stopped abruptly. She faced his glance. "I said you would hate me," she said slowly. "No, I do not think so." "Yes, yes, you will hate me," she said breathlessly, "and you should. Oh, I'm not excusing myself. I hate myself. I despise myself. If you hated me you would only be right. Yes, you have every right." "Are you engaged to any one else, Doris?" he said with a smile. She sprang up indignantly. "Oh, how could you say such a thing! Bojo!" "If I have offended you I beg your pardon." "You beg my pardon," she said, her lip trembling. She came and knelt at his side. "Bojo, look at me. You believe that I love you, don't you?--that you are the only thing, the only person in my life that I have ever loved, and that if I give you up it is because I must, because I can't help it, because--because I know myself so well that I know I haven't the strength to do what other women do--to be--poor! There you have it!"