why don't you go away?"

"I've thought about it," he said. "I--I can't." He flung himself down
in Hugh's chair and rested his head in his hands.

Bella bent over him. "Poor Pete! It's cruel for you--and," she added
softly, uncertainly, "and for me."

"For you too, Bella?" He looked up at her through tears.

She nodded her head, and her face worked. "Perhaps you could take
her back to her friends, Pete?"

"And leave Hugh? Didn't you hear what he said, Bella? Life and death!
It would kill him if she should go away with me. Or--he'd follow and
kill me."

"Yes," Bella assented somberly; "yes, he'd kill you. The devil is
still living in his heart."

"No. Sylvie will marry him. Hugh gets his will." Pete shook his head.
"Wait a few days--you'll see. She's fighting against him now; I don't
know why--some instinct. But though he tells her so many lies, he
doesn't lie about one thing. He loves her. He does love her."

"No! No!" Bella's passion, tearing its way through her long habit
of repression, was almost terrifying. "He loves the image she has
of him. If he knew that she could see him as I do, his love would
shrivel up like a flower in a drought. Hugh can't love the truth.
He can't love anything but his delusions. Pete, tell her the truth.