She hardly knew what he meant. Having lived so long in a fool’s paradise, she could not realise that her world was coming down about her ears.
“We’ll have to be proper in future,” he said. “I’ve had the most fiendish run of bad luck lately, and it’s just as well there never was any engagement between us. It would have had to come to nothing.”
She drew back, and looked at him with frightened eyes. He had great power over her—this big, masterful man, whom she had looked upon as her lover; and she could not believe that a little trouble about money could really make any difference to him. She believed him able to overcome any such difficulty as that of earning a living for her and himself.
“But, Gavan,” she said, “what have I done?”
“Done, little girl? you’ve done nothing. It’s all my fault. I’ve lost heart over things lately, and it will only harm you if we keep up this pretence of being engaged. Nothing can come of it.”
“Wait! To be stuck in Tarrong all my life among these people, and up to my neck in debt! No, little woman, as soon as ever I can get things squared up, I’m off out of this, and I dare say we’ll never see each other again. I’ve made a mess of things here, and I’m off somewhere else.”
It seemed almost incredible to her that a man could so throw up the fight; and then a thought flashed into her mind.
“It is not because Miss Grant has come that you do this?”
He laughed with a well-simulated indifference.
“Miss Grant!” he said, “I have only seen her twice—that day on the coach and last night.”
She seemed to study the question, still holding his hands, and looking up into his face. The light in the room was stronger, and there were sounds as if some of the household were stirring.
“So we must say ‘Good-bye!’” she said, “just because you are short of money. Gavan, I would have thought more of you, had you told me you were tired of me and were going in for the other girl. I think I could have respected you at any rate; but to sneak out on the story of not being able to afford it—”
His face darkened, and he began to speak, but she stopped him, and went on in a passionless sort of voice. “Some one is coming,” she said, “and we must say good-bye; and since you wish it, it _is_ Good-bye.’ But I’m not a child, to change my fancies in a day, so I won’t promise to forget. And I think you have treated me very badly, so neither will I promise to forgive. I had set my heart on you, Gavan. You seemed to me—but there, it’s no use talking. I suppose I _should_ be meek and mild, and—”