"Do you, indeed?" he walked nearer, boyishly happy because she was close beside him. He wanted to touch her, to take her hand and walk as children do, but could not because of the subtile barrier he felt between them. He determined to break it down. "Finish what you were saying? And then it was me--what?" "And then it was I who gave out, not you." "But you were a heroine--a heroine from the ground up, and I love you." He spoke with such boyish impulsiveness that she took the remark as one of his extravagances, and merely smiled indulgently, as if amused at it. She did not even flush, but accepted it as she would an outburst from Hoyle. David was amazed. It only served to show him how completely outside that charmed circle within which she lived he still was. He was maddened by it. He came nearer and bent to look in her face, until she lifted her eyes to look fairly in his. "That's right. Look at me and understand me. I waited there only that I might tell you. Why do you put a wall between us? I tell you I love you. I love you, Cassandra; do you understand?" She stood quite still and gazed at him in amazement, almost as if in terror. Her face grew white, and she pressed her two hands on her heart, then slowly slid them up to her round white throat as if it hurt her--a movement he had seen in her twice before, when suffering emotion. "Why, Cassandra, does it hurt you for me to tell you that I love you? Beautiful girl, does it?" "Yes, suh," she said huskily. He would have taken her in his arms, but refrained for very love of her. She should be sacred even from his touch, if she so wished, and the barrier, whatever it might be, should halo her. He had spoken so tenderly he had no need to tell her. The love was in his eyes and his voice, but he went on. "Then I must be cruel and hurt you. I love you all the days and the nights--all the moments of the days--I love you." In very terror, she flung out her hands and placed them on his breast, holding him thus at arm's-length, and with head thrown back, still looked into his eyes piteously, imploringly. With trembling lips, she seemed to be speaking, but no voice came. He covered her hands with his, and held them where she had placed them. "You have put a wall between us. Why have you done it?" "I didn't--didn't know; I thought you were--as far--as far away from us as the star--the star of gold is--from our world in the night--so far--I didn't guess--you could come so--near." She bowed her head and wept. "You are the star yourself, you beautiful--you are--" But she stopped him, crying out. She could not draw her hands away, for he still held them clasped to his heart.