The words steadied her. "_Without love_--" and she had no love to give
Tony. Not the love that a woman should bring to the man she will call
husband. Out of the turmoil of her mind this one thought emerged clear and
irrefutable. And in that moment, for good or ill, her decision was taken.

"Tony." She spoke very gently, sore at heart for the pain she knew she must
inflict. "I must say no, dear. If I loved you, I'd say yes very gladly. But
I don't love you--not like that."

"And you won't marry me?"

"No, I can't marry you."

"Then that's finished." He spoke brusquely. "I shan't ask you again, so you
needn't worry. Come along, we'll get back to the hotel. If we're going to
watch the sunrise to-morrow, we'd better turn in early. And this air makes
one confoundedly sleepy. I believe I could sleep the clock round."

His abrupt return to the commonplace left her feeling confused and
disconcerted. It almost seemed as though she must have dreamed the brief
conversation which had just taken place. It was incredible that a man could
ask you to marry him, promise to forswear a deadly vice that was born
in his blood, and then--almost in the same breath, as it were--casually
vouchsafe the information that he "could sleep the clock round"!

He had linked his arm in hers again, and was piloting her skilfully down
the uneven pathway. She stole a glance at his face. But she could learn
nothing whatever from his expression. Apparently he was solely concerned
with the matter of conducting her back to the hotel in safety.