Kittredge rose, eying her sternly. "I understand," he said, "or rather I
don't understand; but there's no use talking any more. I'll take my
medicine and--good-by."

She looked at him in frightened supplication. "You won't leave me? Lloyd,
you won't leave me?"

He laughed harshly. "What do you think I am? A jumping jack for you to pull
a string and make me dance? Well, I guess not. Leave you? Of course I'll
leave you. I wish I had never seen you; I'm sorry I ever came inside this
blooming church!"

"Oh!" she gasped, in sudden pain.

"You don't play fair," he went on recklessly. "You haven't played fair at
all. You knew I loved you, and--you led me on, and--this is the end of
it."

"No," she cried, stung by his words, "it's _not_ the end of it. I _won't_
be judged like that. I _have_ played fair with you. If I hadn't I would
have accepted you, for I love you, Lloyd, I love you with all my heart!"

"I like the way you show it," he answered, unrelenting.

"Haven't I helped you all these months? Isn't my friendship something?"

He shook his head. "It isn't enough for me."

"Then how about _me_, if I want _your_ friendship, if I'm hungry for it, if
it's all I have in life? How about that, Lloyd?" Under their dark lashes