She saw a tremor shake him as a great storm shakes the rooted strength of cedars; his head sank; a fierce conflict was at war within him. For a while he hesitated; torn by an anguish of desire to speak the word that should unloose the bonds of silence between them.
Then a brave gentleman's inborn instincts conquered him:—
"No," he said simply. "Be true to yourself, and you will never be false to me. For the rest, you know me. I can wait."
And she who heard him knew that with that refusal he had put from him what cost him more in the renunciation than sceptres laid aside have cost to those who put them by at the dictation of a pure and generous honour beyond all selfish sway, as his was now beyond it.
"You are great beyond men's nobility," she answered him. In that momentary weakness she had longed that he should bid her sacrifice her word and her bond to him, but he was far higher and dearer in her sight because he denied that weakness its way; she had much strength herself, and she loved such strength in men. "But—but—have you no fear when I tell you that my life has been tainted by such as he?"
