“Nor has it,” I interposed instantly.  “It was not indifference which silenced me.  Rather it was the very strength of my feeling toward you.  I was fearful of saying too much, of being too precipitate.”

“You imagine I would fail to value your friendship at such a time?”

“Don’t,” I burst forth impetuously; “you talk of friendship when all my hope centers about another term.  Surely you understand.  I am a man sorely tempted, and dare not yield to temptation.”

She drew her hand away from my clasp, yet the very movement seemed to express regret.

“You speak strangely.”

“No, I do not; the words have been wrung from me.  I am in no way ashamed, although I realize this is neither the time nor the place.  Remember you have been under my protection ever since that night we met first on the streets; you are alone here with me now, but still under my protection.  I cannot take advantage of your helpless condition, your utter loneliness.  If I did I should never again be worthy of the name gentleman.”

“I regret you should say this.”

“No more than I do; the words have been wrung from me.”

“And we are to be friends no longer?  Is that your meaning?”

“You must answer that question,” I replied gravely, “for it is beyond my power to decide.”

Her head was again uplifted, and I knew she was endeavoring to see my face through the gloom.  There was silence, the only sounds the slash of the boat through the water, and the slight flapping of the canvas.

“I am a woman,” she said at last, “and we like to pretend to misunderstand, but I am not going to yield to that inclination.  I do understand, and will answer frankly.  We can never be friends as we were before.”

My heart sank, and I felt a choke in my voice difficult to overcome.

“I was afraid it would be so.”

“Yes,” and both her hands were upon mine, “in our position we cannot afford to play at cross purposes.  You have been loyal to me, even when every inducement was offered elsewhere.  There was a moment when I almost doubted, but it was only for a moment.  Then I seemed to sense your plan, your purpose, and from that time on I have trusted you more completely than ever before.  This is confessing a great deal, for it is my nature to be reticent—­I have always been hard to become acquainted with.”

“I have not found you so; I feel as though I had known you always.”

“That comes from the peculiarity of our first meeting, the unconventional manner in which we were brought together.  I was not my natural self that night, nor have I ever been able since to feel toward you as I have in my relations with other men.  Indeed I have been so frank spoken, so careless of social forms, as to make you question in your own mind my real womanhood.”

“No; never that!” I protested.