He could not endure it.

She might not love him, but that was no reason why he should turn her sisterly affection into hate.

So he went to her, and laid his hand softly on one of hers, trying to draw it away.

She let him do so after a moment, but her face remained just as much hidden.
"Lucia!" he said, full of distress, "Lucia! speak to me." She could not--all her efforts were needed to keep down the painful swelling in her throat.

She was fighting for power to say humbly, "Try to forgive me," but he did not give her time.
"If you would only say good-bye--only one word;" and he almost knelt beside her, raising her cold hand half-unconsciously to his lips.
She drew it away suddenly.