You see, it isn't quite mine--to tell." "Not yours!" "Not--entirely." "But it makes you feel bad ?" "Yes--very." "Then can't I know that part ?" "Oh, no--no, indeed, no! You see--it wouldn't be fair--to the other." Bertram stared a little.

Then his mouth set into stern lines.
"Billy, what are you talking about?
Seems to me I have a right to know." Billy hesitated.

To her mind, a girl who would tell of the unrequited love of a man for herself, was unspeakably base.

To tell Bertram Arkwright's love story was therefore impossible.

Yet, in some way, she must set Bertram's mind at rest.
"Dearest," she began slowly, her eyes wistfully pleading, "just what it is, I can't tell you.