You have no right; I gave you no right."
He permitted her to draw away, and they stood facing each other, he
eager, mystified, thrilling with passion almost beyond mastery, she
trembling and unstrung, her cheeks crimson, her eyes filled with mute
appeal.
"I read it in your face," he insisted. "It told of love."
"Then my face must have lied," she answered, her soft voice tremulous,
"or else you read the message wrongly. It is from my lips you must
take the answer."
"And they kissed me."
"If so, I knew it not. It was by no volition of mine. Lieutenant
Brant, I have trusted you so completely; that was not right."
"My heart exonerates me."
"I cannot accept that guidance."
"Then you do not love me."
She paused, afraid of the impulse that swept her on. "Perhaps," the
low voice scarcely audible, "I may love you too well."
"You mean there is something--some person, perhaps--standing between?"
She looked frankly at him. "I do mean just that. I am not heartless,
and I sincerely wish we had never met; but this must be the end."
"The end? And with no explanation?"
"There is no other way.
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