.

that we mustn't meet again.

You shouldn't have come--oh, you shouldn't have come!" she cried tremulously.
He drew a step nearer to her.
"I _had_ to come, I'm a man--not a saint!" he answered.
She looked up swiftly, trying to read what lay behind the harsh repression in his tones.

She felt as though he were holding something in leash--something that strained and fought against restraint.
"_I'm a man--not a saint_!" The memory of his renunciation at King Arthur's Castle swept over her.
"Yet I once thought you--almost that, Peter," she said slowly.
But he brushed her words aside.
"Well, I'm not.

When I saw you to-day at the studio.