"Give all thou canst; high heaven rejects the lore Of nicely calculated less or more; So deem'd the man who fashion'd for the sense These lofty pillars, spread that branching roof Self-poised, and scoop'd into ten thousand cells, Where light and shade repose, where music dwells Lingering and wandering on as loth to die-- Like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof That they were born for immortality."
The girl was little, slender, insignificant--only her love made her heroic. The man was big, broad, one to be noticed in a crowd, and his love made him as helpless as a little child.
They stood opposite each other in the poor, shabby little room. His eyes devoured her face wildly, incredulously, but her eyes were fixed on a great hole in the faded carpet.
Her mind was chaotic, for with his eager words of love rang others, bewildering her. Side by side with his passionate outpouring of his love for her, his longing to have her for his own, to live for her and work for her, were other words--words of ambition and great aspirations, words of intending travel into far-away countries, of hardships and discomforts to be borne for the sake of the book that was to be written--the book that was to bring fame and satisfaction to the writer of it.
And these words rang with a deep note of earnestness and strength, and overpowered those eager, present tones that were pleading to her so wildly.
"I called you Kathleen Mavourneen last night, you remember, and you smiled and blushed!" he protested, roughly. "Why did you do it? Kathleen, you _do_ love me, you do! Why don't you speak to me? I tell you, I have seen it in your eyes. Why do you deny it now?"
She shook her head, and her heart cried in agony, "How long? How long?"
"Won't you try, then?" with a humbleness that was not natural to him. "Oh, Kitty, little Kitty, I cannot live without you!"
He held out his arms to her despairingly.
"I have a singing lesson to give at one o'clock," she said.
His arms fell to his sides. The sun streamed in on to the pretty, pale, downbent face of the girl, and on to the white, haggard face of the man who stood opposite.
There were no shadows in the little room--it was all glare and shabbiness.
"I will go," he said, and then his eyes caught fire; "but you are a flirt! Do you hear, a paltry, heartless flirt! You have led me on--played with me. You have made your eyes soft, your lips sweet, to amuse yourself at my expense! How do you do it?" with a little cynical laugh. "It's really clever--of its kind--you know----"