was--'and you'll make a new start, right now.' And I did it. There's a lot
you don't know, but you can bet all your rosaries and relics that I've made
a fair fight since then. I've worked and--been decent and--I did it all for
you." His voice was vibrant now with passion; he caught her hand in his
and repeated the words, leaning closer, so that she felt his warm breath on
her cheek. "All for you. You know that, don't you, Alice?"

What a moment for a girl whose whole soul was quivering with fondness! What
a proud, beautiful moment! He loved her, he loved her! Yet she drew her
hand away and forced herself to say, as if reprovingly: "You mustn't do
that!"

He looked at her in surprise, and then, with challenging directness: "Why
not?"

"Because I cannot be what you--what you want me to be," she answered,
looking down.

"I want you to be my wife."

"I know."

"And--and you refuse me?"

For a moment she did not speak. Then slowly she nodded, as if pronouncing
her own doom.

"Alice," he cried, "look up here! You don't mean it. Say it isn't true."

She lifted her eyes bravely and faced him. "It _is_ true, Lloyd; I can