"Oh, the misery of things," she said half-sobbing. "I have given my
soul to another, and I knew it was not mine to give. Why, oh why, did
you not speak to me sooner? I have been hungering for you and you never
came."
A sense of his folly choked him.
"And I have made you suffer, poor darling! And the whole world is out
of joint for us!"
The hopeless feeling of loss, forgotten for a moment, came back to him.
The girl was gone from him for ever, though a bridge of hearts should
always cross the chasm of their severance.
"I am going away," he said, "to make reparation. I have my repentance
to work out, and it will be bitterer than yours, little woman. Ours
must be an austere love."
She looked at him till her pale face flushed and a sad exultation woke
in her eyes.
"You will never forget?" she asked wistfully, confident of the answer.
"Forget!" he cried. "It is my only happiness to remember. I am going
away to be knocked about, dear. Wild, rough work, but with a man's
chances!"
For a moment she let another thought find harbour in her mind. Was the
past irretrievable, the future predetermined? A woman's word had an old
right to be broken. If she went to him, would not he welcome her
gladly, and the future might yet be a heritage for both?
The thought endured but a moment, for she saw how little simple was the
crux of her destiny.
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