"Alas! I am too much myself," he answered in a low hoarse voice. "I am here, Claudia, to make confession to you. I would, indeed, crave your forgiveness, but I know that that is impossible." He was holding her hand in his convulsive grasp, and his eyes were riveted on hers in a fierce look full of a passionate devotion. "Confession?" she asked quickly. "What secrets have you from me? Has some other woman usurped my place in your heart? If so, tell me, Dudley. Do not hesitate." "No," he answered, trying to preserve an outward calm, "it is not that. I love no woman but your own dear self. Surely you do not doubt me?" "I have never doubted you. Sometimes I have been jealous--madly jealous, I confess--but always without reason, for you have always been loyal to me." "I was loyal because I loved no other woman save yourself," he cried, kissing her passionately upon the lips. "But all the joy must wither. I am here to make confession, to reveal a ghastly chapter in my life, and to take leave of you--and of life." She saw how terribly agitated he was, and her woman's solicitude for his welfare calmed her. "Come," she said tenderly, leading him towards a chair. "Sit down and remain quiet for a little. You are nervous and overworked." She placed her small, soft hand upon his hot brow, and brushed back the dark hair from his forehead. Refusing to sit, he stood before her, grasping the chair to steady himself. "No, Claudia; do not trouble about me. It is all useless now. The end has come. Let me confess all to you. I know that what I am about to disclose will turn your love to hatred; that my very memory will become repugnant to you, and that mere mention of my name will fill you with indignation and disgust. But hear the secret chapter of my life's history before you judge. Let me tell you all," he added hoarsely. "Let me lay bare the terrible secret that I have carried these six years buried within my heart. Let me confess to you, the woman I love." His words filled her with amazement. Her brows contracted, and her breath came and went in short, quick gasps. Was she actually to lose him? It seemed impossible. "I am all attention, Dudley," she replied in a low, mechanical voice. "Your confession, whatever its nature, shall find in me a safe guardian." "I cannot ask you to forgive, Claudia," he said, "I can only beg of you to think that I have hidden the truth from you because I dearly loved you and knew that exposure must result in the abrupt termination of our love-dream." "Tell me all," she urged. "Have no secrets from me." "Then hear me," he said, his hard face white and drawn, while with his strong hands he gripped the chair, striving valiantly to remain calm. "I will relate to you all the hideous facts in their proper sequence; you will see what a canker-worm of guilt has existed within me all these years. For me, there is now no life, no hope, no love--" "Except mine," she interrupted quickly.