"Oh, Frank, speak! Say something," she besought him, in despair at his silence, feeling her terror grow greater in the stillness, and her heart throbbing wildly in spite of herself.
He passed his hand over his forehead, trying to collect his thoughts. Then he slowly replied:
"Yes, Eva--for I have something to say to you. Just this very day."
"What is that?" she asked, looking up through her tears, in surprise at his strange tone.
"I want to speak to you very seriously, Eva. Will you listen?"
"I want to ask you something--to ask you if you would not rather be free. To ask if you would not be glad that I should release you?"
She did hot immediately understand him, and sat gazing at him open-mouthed.
"Why?" she said at length, shuddering, terrified lest he should understand something of what was torturing her soul.
"Because it would be so much better for you, my child," he said, gently. "I have no right to fetter your life to mine. I am wrecked--an old man--and you are young."
"No, I am old, too," said she, with a smile, "and I will not have it. I will be true to you. I will always comfort you when you are out of heart. And so, together, we will both grow young again, and both be happy."
Her voice was as sweet as balm; to give him strength she felt something of her old illusions reviving in her. She would cling to him whatever the cost: she loved him.
He clasped her tightly to his breast, and kissed her fondly. For the moment she felt no fear; he was so unhappy.
"You are a dear, good girl," he whispered in a husky, trembling voice. "I do not deserve that you should be so good to me. But, seriously, Eva, think it over once more. Consider again whether you would not be unhappy, nay, wretched, if you had to be with me always. There is yet time; we have our future lives in our hands, and I cannot spend mine with you, Eva, only to make yours more miserable than I have done already. So, for your sake, for your happiness, I would gladly give you back your word."
"But I will not have it!" she moaned, desperately. "I will not. I do not understand you. Why should you give me back my word?"
He took her hands caressingly in his own, and looked in her face a long time, with a sad smile under the gold-coloured moustache.