I have no right to love you." She could scarcely speak.

"Is--friendship not enough, Mr.Berkley ?" "It is too late for friendship.

You know it." "That cannot be." "Why, Ailsa ?" "Because it is friendship--mistaken friendship that moves you now in every word you say." She raised her candid gaze.

"Is there no end to your self-murder?
Do you still wish to slay yourself before my very eyes ?" "I tell you that there is nothing good left living in me: "And if it were true; did you never hear of a resurrection ?" "I--warn you!" "I hear your warning." "You dare let me love you ?" Dry-lipped, voices half stifled by their mounting emotion, they stood closely confronted, paling under the effort of self-mastery.
And his was giving way, threatening hers with every breath.
Suddenly in his altered face she saw what frightened her, and her hand suddenly closed in his; but he held it imprisoned.
"Answer me, Ailsa!" "Please--" she said--"if you will let me go--I will answer--you----" "What ?" "What you--ask." Her breath was coming faster; her face, now white as a flower, now flushed, swam before him.

Through the surging passion enveloping him he heard her voice as at a distance: "If you will--let me go--I can tell you----" "Tell me now!" "Not--this way.