"No." Her tone was as firm as his. She lifted her head and put her cheek
against his. "It makes me very proud that you ask it. But--I--I do not----"

"Do not--what?"

"I do not want--I will not--risk losing you."

"But you won't lose me. You will have me more than ever."

"Some men--yes. But not you."

"And why not I, O Wisdom?"

"Because--because--do you think I have watched you all this time, without
learning something about you? The way to keep you is to leave you free. I
do not want your name. I do not want your friends I do not want to be
respectable. I want--just you."

"But are we not as good as married now?"

"Yes--that's it. And I want it to keep on. I never cared for anybody until
I saw you. I shall never care for anybody else. I never shall try. I want
you as long as I can have you. And then----"

"And then," Howard laughed or rather, pretended to laugh, "and then, 'Oh,
dig me a grave both wide and deep, wide and deep.' How like
twenty-years-old that is."

She seemed not to hear his jest and presently went on: "Do you remember the
evening before I left, down there at Mrs. Sands's?"