She tried to look at him and repeat it, but her eyes betrayed the secret she was fighting to keep from him. The long lashes fell to the hot cheeks an instant too late. His hand found hers. "My little Irish wild rose, all sweetness and thorns," he murmured. Above the tumult of her heart she heard her voice say, as if it were that of a stranger, "It's no use ... I can't ... marry you." "Because I'm a highgrader?" She nodded. "Do you think I'm worse than other men? Down in the bottom of your heart do you believe that?" She smiled wanly. "Other men are not ... making love to me." "Am I nothing but a thief to you?" "I have told you that you are the man I ... love. Isn't that a good deal?" The desire of her, pure as a flame, swept through him. "It's the greatest thing that ever came into my life. Do you think I'm going to let it end there? I'm going to fight for our happiness. I'm going to beat down the things that come between us." "You can't. It's too late," she cried wistfully. "It's never too late for love so long as we're both alive." "Not for love, but...." "You've got to see this as I see it, sweetheart. I'm a man--primitive, if you like. I've done wild and evil things--plenty of them. What of that? I slough them off and trample them down. The heart of me is clean, isn't it?" "Yes." To look at him was enough to clear away all doubt. He had the faults that go with full-blooded elemental life, but at bottom this virile American was sound. "Well! Isn't that enough?" The little movement of her hands toward him seemed to beg for pity. "Jack! I can't help it. Maybe I'm a little prig, but ... mustn't we guide our lives by principle and not by impulse?" "Do I guide mine by impulse?" "Don't you?" She hurried on to contradict, or at least to modify, her reluctant charge. "Oh, I know you are a great influence here. You're known all over the state. Men follow you wherever you lead. Why should I criticize you--I, who have done nothing all my life but lean on others?" "Go ahead. When I ask you to marry me I invite your criticism." "I have to take little steps and to keep in well-worn paths. I can't make laws for myself as you do. Those that have been made may be wrong, but I must obey them." "Why? Why should you? If they're wrong, fight against them." "I can't argue with you ... dear. But I know what I think right. I _want_ to think as you do. Oh, you don't know how I long to throw my Puritan conscience overboard and just trust your judgment. I ... admire you tremendously. But I can't give in ... I can't." The muscles stood out on his lean cheeks as he set his teeth. "You've got to, Moya. Our love has been foreordained. Do you think it is for nothing that we met again after all these years? You're mine--the one woman in the world I want and am going to have." She shook her head sadly. "No ... no!"