His gaze was not so far from her as it seemed. For he must have
noted her expression, since he said hurriedly: ``I beg your
pardon. It isn't that I mean to be rude. I--I--it is best that
I do not see you.''

She sank back in the chair with a sigh. ``And I--I know that I
ought to keep away from you. But--I can't. It's too strong for
me.''

He looked at her slowly. ``I have made up my mind to put you out
of my head,'' he said. ``And I shall.''

``Don't!'' she cried. ``Victor--don't!''

He sat again, rested his forearms upon the table, leaned toward
her. ``Look at me,'' he said.

She slowly lifted her gaze to his, met it steadily. ``I thought
so, Victor,'' she said tenderly. ``I knew I couldn't care so
much unless you cared at least a little .''

``Do I?'' said he. ``I don't know. I doubt if either of us is
in love with the other. Certainly, you are not the sort of woman
I could love--deeply love. What I feel for you is the sort of
thing that passes. It is violent while it lasts, but it
passes.''

``I don't care!'' cried she recklessly. ``Whatever it is I want
it!''