Now go--go--I can't bear any more from you." Courthorne stood still, looking at her, for almost a minute, while the wild reckless devil that was in him awoke.

Clever as he was, he was apt now and then to fling prudence to the winds, and he was swayed by an almost uncontrollable impulse to stay beside the girl who, he realized, though she recognized his worthlessness, loved him still.
That he did not love her, and, perhaps, never had done so, did not count with him.

It was in his nature to find pleasure in snatching her from a better man.

Then some faint sense of the wantonness and cruelty of it came upon him, and by a tense effort he made her a little inclination that was not ironical.
"Well," he said, "if they are worth anything my good wishes go with you.

At least, they can't hurt you." He held his hand out, but Ailly Blake shrank away from him and pointed to the door.
"Go," she said hoarsely.