It wasn't that I didn't want you. I've wanted you
every day and every hour. Only God knows how I've wanted you and shall
want you all the rest of my life, unless--"
He paused, hoping, for the space of a heartbeat, that the dream might
come true.
But Isabel did not move from her chair. She surveyed the opposite wall
for a few moments before she spoke. "It was honourable," she said, in a
more friendly tone. "Of course it was the only thing you could do."
"Of course," he echoed, bitterly.
Isabel rose, went to the foot of the bed, and leaned upon it, facing
him. "I'm afraid I've stayed too long," she said. "I think I'd better
go. I can wait downstairs for the carriage."
Allison did not answer. His eyes burned strangely in his white face,
making her vaguely uncomfortable and afraid. She turned the diamond ring
upon her finger and slowly slipped it off.
"I suppose I must give this back," she said, reluctantly. "I mustn't
wear it now."
"Why not?" he asked huskily.
"Because it doesn't mean anything--now."
"It never did. Keep it, Isabel."
"Thank you," she said, calmly, putting it back, but on the middle
finger.
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