foolish and helpless you are." The man winced, but she went on steadily.
"In all woman-love there is a ruling element of mother-love. I wanted to
take you into my heart and make you happy, to ... to give you all a
woman can give a man."

He came forward and his words were unsteady.

"You can at least let me be your best and closest friend--"

"No. I doubt if men and women can really be friends. It comes to mean
too much--or too little."

"But, Marcia--"

Again she interrupted and again the voice was monotonous, almost
lifeless.

"No, dear. All our silly little jokes--things that have come to be dear
little traditions between us--would be mockeries now." She raised her
chin, and said suddenly, with a forced laugh: "I don't often have these
brain-storms. They make me very foolish. We must see less of each other,
Paul."

"And yet," he stubbornly argued, "it has been only an hour since the
basis of our comradeship was secure enough."

"In that hour we have come a long way, dear. It's going to be hard
enough to get back as it is."

She stood still and, after a brief silence, spoke once more.