Then Dick took Maisie's hand and called her by her name.
She shook her head and looked out to sea.
'Maisie, darling, doesn't it make any difference ?' 'No!' between clenched teeth.

'I'd--I'd tell you if it did; but it doesn't, Oh, Dick, please be sensible.' 'Don't you think that it ever will ?' 'No, I'm sure it won't.' 'Why ?' Maisie rested her chin on her hand, and, still regarding the sea, spoke hurriedly--'I know what you want perfectly well, but I can't give it to you, Dick.

It isn't my fault; indeed, it isn't.

If I felt that I could care for any one----But I don't feel that I care.

I simply don't understand what the feeling means.' 'Is that true, dear ?' 'You've been very good to me, Dickie; and the only way I can pay you back is by speaking the truth.