“I know I’m a cad, but I must have decent things, and servants, and nice clothes. It’s vulgar and hateful and petty, but I can’t help it. I want to live as all my friends live. I haven’t the courage to give up all that makes life beautiful. It’s not just one act of heroism that it needs; it’s strength to be heroic day after day in a sort of dull, sordid fashion. And there can never be any escape from it; one has to make up one’s mind that it will last for ever. I see myself living in a shabby house in a horrid pokey street, with two dirty little maids, and I could almost scream. Oh, I couldn’t, Bertram.” “I thought you cared for me.” She did not answer. “It’s different for you,” she pleaded. “You’ve been brought up without all these things, and you don’t miss them. I daresay it’s utterly snobbish, but I can’t help it. I’ve been used to luxuries all my life; it’s just as impossible for me to go without them as it would be for you to go without a coat in winter. You think it’s very easy for me to do housework and to mend linen as your mother does, but d’you think it’s any easier than it would be for you who’ve worked with your brains, to mend roads from morning till night? I know girls who’ve done that sort of thing. I’ve seen the shifts with which they keep up appearances and the awful struggle to make both ends meet. I’ve seen their faces pinched with anxiety, and I’ve seen the wrench it causes when they must spend a shilling. I couldn’t stand it, Bertram. You’re quite right; I am afraid.” “But I love you, Winnie,” he said. “You’re the whole world to me. Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll try to do it. I can’t lose you.” “What can you do? How can you change yourself? Don’t you see that it’s impossible, and that we’re utterly unsuited to one another? Really we’ve not got a single thought or aim or idea in common. You can’t want to make me so unhappy as to wish to marry me.” “Then it’s good-bye?” he asked. Winnie looked up. To her surprise she saw her father ride past with Gwendolen Durant. Instinctively she drew back, seeking to hide herself; but they were too deeply engrossed in conversation to notice her. Railing’s eyes met hers sadly. “I don’t know how I shall live without you,” he said. “You must try and forgive me for all the wretchedness I’ve caused you. And soon I hope that you’ll forget all about me.” “Is there no chance that you’ll ever change your mind?” he asked, brokenly. She hesitated, for there was something on her heart which she felt strangely impelled to confess. It seemed that she owed it to him. “I think I ought to tell you that Lord Wroxham has asked me to marry him.” “And are you going to?” he gasped. “I’ve known him ever since I was a child, and I’m very fond of him. I’m frightened. I wanted you to know from my own lips rather than from a newspaper. You probably can’t despise me more than you do already.” “What do you mean by saying you’re frightened? Are you frightened of me?” “Yes.”