"No . . . no. I'm very fond of you."

"But you're going to leave me. It's because I've done wrong."

"Don't blame yourself, dear. It has been all my fault. I ought to
have known."

Her hands fell from him. The life seemed to die out of her whole
figure. "You do despise me."

Desire of her throbbed through him, but he spoke very quietly.
"Listen, dear. There is nobody I respect more . . . and none I
like so much. I can't tell you how. . . fond of you I am. But I
must go now. You don't understand."

She bit her lip to repress the sobs that would come and turned
away to hide her shame. Jeff caught her in his arms, kissed her
passionately on the lips, the eyes, the soft round throat.

"You do . . . like me," she purred happily.

Abruptly he pushed her from him. Where were they drifting? He must
get his anchors down before it was too late.

Somehow he broke away, leaving her there hurt and bewildered at
his apparent fickleness, at the stiffness with which he had beaten
back the sweet delight inviting them.

Jeff went to his rooms, his mind in a blind chaotic surge. He sat
before the table for hours, fighting grimly to persuade himself he