Or are you ashamed because people call me a witch?
Why then I will never be one again, for your sake! What do I care for it all?
Can it be anything to me--can anything have worth that stands between me and you?
Ah, love--be not so very hard!" The Wanderer did not move.

His face was as calm as a sculptured stone.
"Do you despise me for loving you ?" she asked again, with a sudden flush.
"No.

I do not despise you." Something in her tone had pierced through his stupor and had found an answer.

She started at the sound of his voice.

It was as though he had been awake and had known the weight of what she had been saying, and her anger rose at the cold reply.
"No--you do not despise me, and you never shall!" she exclaimed passionately.