"It is sudden, this truth that you tell me," went on Carshaw. "Is it a truth?" "Yes." "You are not fond of me, Winnie?" "I have a liking for you." "That's all?" "That is all." "Don't say it, dear. I suffer." "Do you? No, don't suffer. I--can't help myself." "You are sorry for me, then?" "Oh, yes." "But how came I, then, to have the opposite impression so strongly? I think--I can't help thinking--that it was your fault, dear. You made me hope, perhaps without meaning me to, that--that life was to be happy for me. When I entered that door just now no man in New York had a lighter step than I, or a more careless heart. I shall go out of it--different, dear. You should not have allowed me to think--what I did; and you should not have told me the truth so--quite so--suddenly." "Sit down. You are not fair to me. I did not know you cared--" "You--you did not know that I cared? Come, that's not true, girl!" "Not so much, I mean--not quite so much. I thought that you were flirting with me, as I--perhaps--was flirting with you." "Who is that I hear speaking? Is it Winifred? The very sound of her voice seems different. Am I dreaming? She flirting with me? I don't realize her--it is a different girl! Oh! this thing comes to me like a falling steeple. It had no right to happen!" "You should sit down, or you should go; better go--better, better go," and Winifred clutched wildly at her throat. "Let us part now, and let us never meet!" "If you like, if you wish it," said Carshaw, still humbly, for he was quite dazed. "It seems sudden. I am not sure if it is a dream or not. It isn't a happy one, if it is. But have we no business to discuss before you send me away in this fashion? Do you mean to throw off my help as well as myself?" "I shall manage. I have an offer of work here in my hands. I shall soon be at work, and will then send the amount of the debt which I owe you, though you care nothing about that, and I know that I can never repay you for all." "Yes, that is true, too, in a way. Am I, then, actually to go?" "Yes." "But you are not serious? Think of my living on, days and years, and not seeing you any more. It seems a pitiable thing, too. Even you must be sorry for me." "Yes, it seems a pitiable thing!" "So--what do you say?" "Good-by. Go--go!" "But you will at least let me know where you are? Don't be quite lost to me." "I shall be here for some time. But you won't come. I mustn't see you. I demand that much." "No, no. I won't come, you may be sure. And you, on your part, promise that if you have need of money you will let me know? That is the least I can expect of you." "I will; but go. I will have you in my--memory. Only go from me now, if you--love--" "Good-by, then. I do not understand, but good-by. I am all in, Winnie; but still, good-by. God bless you--"