truth; and he had a passionate desire to remain free. He heard the
voices of his little gods screaming to him to draw back. But it could
be done only at her expense, and it seemed to him that to tell this
noble girl, who was waiting for him, that he did not need her, would
be to spill for ever the happiness with which she overflowed, and sap
the pride that had been the marrow of her during her twenty years of
life. Not thus would Grizel have argued in his place; but he could not
change his nature, and it was Sentimental Tommy, in an agony of
remorse for having brought dear Grizel to this pass, who had to decide
her future and his in the time you may take to walk up a garden path.
Either her mistake must be righted now or kept hidden from her for
ever. He was a sentimentalist, but in that hard moment he was trying
to be a man. He took her in his arms and kissed her reverently,
knowing that after this there could be no drawing back. In that act he
gave himself loyally to her as a husband. He knew he was not worthy of
her, but he was determined to try to be a little less unworthy; and as
he drew her to him a slight quiver went through her, so that for a
second she seemed to be holding back--for a second only, and the
quiver was the rustle of wings on which some part of the Grizel we
have known so long was taking flight from her. Then she pressed close
to him passionately, as if she grudged that pause. I love her more
than ever, far more; but she is never again quite the Grizel we have
known.

He was not unhappy; in the near hereafter he might be as miserable as
the damned--the little gods were waiting to catch him alone and
terrify him; but for the time, having sacrificed himself, Tommy was
aglow with the passion he had inspired. He so loved the thing he had
created that in his exultation he mistook it for her. He believed all
he was saying. He looked at her long and adoringly, not, as he