All that I can ask of you now--all that I can demand of you to
prove that you are the man you said you were--is that you leave
me, and never whisper a word into another ear of our meeting. Will
you promise that?"

"To promise that--would be lying," he said slowly, and his hand
unclenched and lay listlessly on his knee. "If there is a reason--
some good reason why I should leave you--then I will go."

"Then--you demand a reason?"

"To demand a reason would be--"

He hesitated, and she added:

"Unchivalrous."

"Yes--more than that," he replied softly. He bowed his head, and
for a moment she saw the tinge of gray in his blond hair, the
droop of his clean, strong shoulders, the SOMETHING of
hopelessness in his gesture. A new light flashed into her own
face. She raised a hand, as if to reach out to him, and dropped it
as he looked up.

"Will you let me help you?" he asked.

She was not looking at him, but beyond him. In her face he saw
again the strange light of hope that had illumined it at the pool.

"If I could believe," she whispered, still looking beyond him. "If