"Yes, you," he said fiercely. "You must have seen what has been in my heart for days--that I care for you. The first moment I set eyes on you I knew that you were just the kind of girl I wanted for a wife. At first I was afraid of you. I had heard things about you--gossip and all that. You came here. We were thrown together. I still mistrusted you, but I watched you, and saw you weren't as bad as I'd been led to believe. I guess people have lied about you. What do I care what they say? You're good enough for me. I soon found out that I loved you. I'm a man of very few words. I'm not an adept at pretty speeches. Tell me--will you marry me?" She made no reply. It was now almost dark, and he could not see her face plainly. Hoarsely he repeated: "Did you hear me? I want you to marry me." She shook her head. "It's impossible," she murmured. "It's impossible." "You don't care for me--I've made a fool of myself. Is that it?" She laid her gloved hand gently on his hand. "I do care for you." "Then why is it impossible?" he demanded fiercely. He put his arm around her and tried to draw her to him. Quietly, but firmly, she disengaged herself, and it was with some show of dignity that she replied: "Because I care for you--just because of that." "You are not free?" he demanded. She hesitated. "It is not that--there is another reason." "What is it?" At first she was tempted to deceive him and keep up for his benefit her masterful assumption of innocence. But what was the good? He would soon know her real record, if he did not already know it. Kind friends would soon enlighten him, and then he would despise her the more. A man of such broad experience was not to be hoodwinked so easily. No, it was folly to beat about the bush. At one time she might have seized the happiness he held out to her, but now it was too late. "What is it?" he persisted. "Do you mean that man Brockton? Is he the obstacle?" "He is one of them," she answered firmly. She was astonished at her own self-possession, but there was a quiver in her voice as she went on: "My life has been different to what you perhaps think. I am not altogether to blame, although I have no excuses to offer. You understand now?" She half expected an explosion of wrath, but none came. Instead, he said calmly: "I know all about your past life. I've known everything from the first: how you went to San Francisco as a kid and got into the show business, and how you went wrong, and then how you married--still a kid--and how your husband didn't treat you exactly right, and then how, in a fit of frenzied drunkenness he came home and shot himself." The girl leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. A low moan escaped her lips. Madison touched her gently on the shoulder.