Do you suppose things can be left this way between us--all the happiness and the confidence--and the innocence, as you say, destroyed ?" "What more is there to say," she demanded, coldly.
"Shall--I--say it ?" he stammered.
She looked up, startled, scarcely recognising the voice as his--scarcely now recognising his altered features.
"What _is_ the matter with you ?" she exclaimed nervously.
"Good God," he said, hoarsely, "can't you see I've gone quite mad about you!" "About--_me_!" she repeated, blankly.
"About _you_--Valerie West.

Can't you see it?
Didn't you know it?
Hasn't it been plain enough to you--even if it hasn't been to me ?" "Louis! Louis!" she cried in hurt astonishment, "what have you said to me ?" "That I'm mad about you, and I am.

And it's been so--for months--always--ever since the very first! I must have been crazy not to realise it.

I've been fool enough not to understand what has been the matter.

Now you know the truth, Valerie!" He sprang to his feet, took a short turn or two before the hearth, then, catching sight of her face in its colourless dismay and consternation: "I suppose you don't care a damn for me--that way!" he said, with a mirthless laugh.
"What!" she whispered, bewildered by his violence.