Evelyn smiled, a curious wry smile.

"It has only prompted me to behave, as most people would consider,
shamelessly; but there are times when one must get above that point of
view. Besides, there's a reason for my candor--had you been a man of
different stamp, it's possible that I might have been driven into taking
the risk. We should both have suffered for a time, but we might have
reached an understanding--not to intrude on each other--through open
variance. As it is, I could not do you that injustice, and I should
shrink from marrying you with only a little cold liking."

The man held himself firmly in hand. Her calmness had infected him, and
he felt that this was not an occasion for romantic protestations, even
had he felt capable of making them, which was not the case. As a matter
of fact, such things were singularly foreign to his nature.

"Even that would go a long way with me, if I could get nothing better,"
he declared. "Besides, you might change. I could surround you with some
comfort; I think I could promise not to force my company upon you; I
believe I could be kind."

"Yes," assented Evelyn. "I shouldn't be afraid of harshness from you; but
it seems impossible that I should change. You must see that you started
handicapped from the beginning. Had I been free to choose, it might have
been different, but I have lived for some time in shame and fear, hating
the thought that some one would be forced on me."

He said nothing and she went on.

"Must I tell you? You are the man!"