'I don't want to desert you, but--what right have I to such comfort--such luxury--when other people are suffering and toiling?'
'Luxury? This little room? And there you sit sewing and knitting all day! And I'll be bound you don't eat enough to keep a sparrow!'
There was silence. She was saying to herself--'Shall I ever be able to go?--to break with them all?' The thought, the image, of George flashed again through her mind. But why was it so much fainter, so much less distinct than it had been an hour ago? Yet she seemed to turn to him, to beg him piteously to protect her from something vague and undefined.
She looked up--startled--her childish eyes full of tears.
He held out his hand, and she could not help it, she yielded her own.
Farrell's look was full of energy, of determination. He drew nearer to her, still holding her hand. But he spoke with perfect self-control.
'Nelly, I won't deceive you! I love you! You are everything to me. It seems as if I had never been happy--never known what happiness could possibly mean till I knew you. To come here every week--to see you like this for these few hours--it changes everything--it sweetens everything--because you are in my heart--because I have the hope--that some day----'
She withdrew her hand and covered her face.
'Oh, it's my fault--my fault!' she said, incoherently--'how could I?--how _could_ I?'
There was silence again. He opened his lips to speak once or twice, but no words came. One expression succeeded another on his face; his eyes sparkled. At last he said--'How could you help it? You could not prevent my loving you.'
'Yes, I could--I ought----,' she said, vehemently. 'Only I was a fool--I never realised. That's so like me. I won't face things. And yet'--she looked at him miserably--'I did beg you to let me live my own life--didn't I?--not to spoil me--not--not to be so kind to me.'
She sprang up, looking down upon him, as he sat by the fire. 'That's just it. If I were another person! But no!--no! I can't be your friend. I'm not old enough--or clever enough. And I can't ever be anything else.'
'Why?' He asked it very quietly, his eyes raised to hers. He could see the quick beat of her breath under her black dress.
'Because I'm not my own. I'm not free--you know I'm not. I'm not free legally--and I'm not free in heart. Oh, if George were to come in at that door!'--she threw back her head with a passionate gesture--'there would be nobody else in the world for me--nobody--nobody!'