I've failed in this thing as I've failed in the other." He straightened himself suddenly, with a little forceful gesture.
"I'm beaten all round, beaten to my knees; but I don't seem ashamed.
Even if you can't forgive me, I'm glad I've told you." "I think," said Ida, "I could forgive you for one offense--the one you seem to think most important--rather easily.

It would have been ever so much harder to do that had you gone away without telling me." "You mean that ?" cried Weston, and, stooping over her, he caught one hand and gripped it almost cruelly.
"Can't you take anything for granted ?" Ida asked demurely.

"Must one always explain in full to you ?" She felt the man's arms close about her, and his lips hot on her cheek; but in another moment he drew away from her.
"But this is madness," he said.

"I have nothing.

In a few more weeks I shall be an outcast." "Ah," said Ida, "you have given me all that counts for anything, and"-- she looked up at him with shining eyes and burning cheeks--"you belong to me." He stood silent for several moments, with trouble in his face, apparently struggling with himself.
"What are you thinking of ?" she asked, Weston raised his head.
"I dare not think," he said.