He smiled at me pitifully. "She does not exist," he said. "Elsie, you are the only woman in the world to me."
I recoiled from him in disgust. "You are equivocating," I said sternly. "Be frank while there is still time."
"I am frank," he said in a choked voice.
"Swear that you are telling me the truth."
"I swear it."
I arose. The numbness of despair was upon me. My suffering was deadened, my nerves were lulled into temporary quietude. There was nothing further needed. He had lied to me. I knew that. I had been so blind, that the light shed upon me by my mother's revelation seemed twenty times more powerful to me than if it had not come upon me so suddenly.
"Thank you," I said, opening the door. "Let me apologize for having detained you so long. Good-night."
He had nothing more to say. He passed out of the room, without one glance in my direction.
