"Evarne, why in Heaven's name do such things happen? On my honour, I'm heartily grieved and worried over this imbroglio." With hope flashing into her eyes she suddenly sat erect and caught at his arm. "Then leave everything alone--dear, dear." Her mellifluous voice was low and coaxing. Before he could reply she went on-- "Let all the cruel, hateful past be forgotten. I can--I will--be a good wife to Geoff. You should never, never have the least reason to regret having permitted our marriage--oh, I'm certain! We are so strangely suited to one another--our natures are thoroughly harmonious. Oh, Morris, Morris, you don't know how much he cares for me, and I--I love him with my whole heart, with all my strength, with all that makes my life. We should be so happy together--do let it be." Morris raised his hands, as if to request the opportunity of replying. But Evarne did not, perhaps could not, cease one instant in her impassioned appeal. "You know better than almost anyone that I am not light-natured, or really indifferent to right and wrong. You did care for me once--I know it--and there was a time when I would have turned to you with perfect confidence in any trouble. By the memory of those days, I implore you not to drag me again into the lowest depths of misery. And Geoff too--pity him, and spare him. Let him live his own life, and love in peace, and marry as his heart dictates. You can't always go by hard and fast laws. I am sure, I am convinced, that the greatest good--that nothing but good--could ever come from your keeping silence upon the wrongs, the faults, the deceptions and miseries that have gone by. Only fresh harm, more widespread evil, immediate and life-long, irreparable and unnecessary--oh think, so unnecessary--can arise from your determination to oppose a marriage that would be--be.... Oh, Morris, we do love each other so much!" She flung her whole soul into this plea. As so often happens, the actual words were by far the weakest part of the appeal. It was her voice, low-pitched in its earnest entreaty, and at times quivering and uncertain, that betrayed most clearly the depth of her agitation--the vital force of tortured feelings. And as these tremulous tones died away, her entire personality continued to give the impression that her very life hung upon Morris's response. She leaned towards him; her fair face, so expressive, so appealing, was very close to his. Those eager brown eyes, now so full of passionate persuasion, seemed to burn to his innermost consciousness. Not for one moment could Morris doubt the reality of her deep affection for the man she desired to marry.