Farewell, my gracious lady ...

not mine, alas! but another man's ...

and may Heaven grant that he love you well ...

not as I do, for that were impossible...." His voice had died away in a whisper, which obviously was half-choked with tears.

She, too, had risen while he spoke, all her hesitation gone, her heart full of reproaches against herself, and of love for him.
"What do you mean ?" she asked trembling.
"That I must go," he replied simply, "since you do not love me...." Oh! how thankful she was that this merciful darkness enwrapped her so tenderly.