She turned in his arms, summoning her strength. "We've got to play the
game," she said. "I've got to keep my word--whatever it costs. And
you--you are going to keep yours."

"My word?" he questioned, swiftly.

"Yes." She lifted her head. "If--if you really care about being
honest--if your love is worth--anything at all--that is the only way.
You promised--you promised--to save him."

"Save him for you?" he said.

"Yes--save him for me." She did not know how she uttered the words, but
somehow they were spoken.

They went into a silence that wrung her soul, and it cost her every atom
of her strength not to recall them.

Bill Warden stood quite motionless for many pulsing seconds, then--very,
very slowly--at length his hold began to slacken.

In the end he set her on her feet--and she was free. "All right, little
new chum!" he said, and she heard a new note in his voice--a note that
waked in her a wild impulse to spring back into his arms and cling to
him--and cling to him. "I'll do it--for you--if it kills me--just to show
you--little girl--just to show you--what my love for you is really
worth."

He stood a moment, facing her; then his hands clenched and he turned
away.