There is no escaping
that. I must not keep you as my lover, Tunis. I was wrong--oh! so
wrong--last Sunday. Reckless, wicked, drifting with a current, I
scarcely knew where."
"My dear girl--"
"Now I see the rocks ahead, Tunis. I can shut my eyes to them no
longer. Disaster is at hand. You shall not be overwhelmed, as I may
be overwhelmed at any time. I will not have your ruin on my
conscience!"
"My ruin?" he repeated. "Ridiculous! My dear girl, you are talking
like a mad woman. You cannot snap the tie that binds us. You cannot
shoulder all the responsibility for this situation. The sin is as
much mine as yours, if it is a sin. I'm in it as deep as you are."
"You must not be," she cried. "You can escape. You _shall_ escape."
"Suppose I refuse to do so?" And he said it confidently.
"Tunis, I have thought of a way out for you," she cried suddenly.
"I don't want to hear it."
"But you must hear it!"
"I will not accept it."
"You cannot help yourself," she told him firmly. "Oh, I know what I
am about! You may be angry; you will perhaps be laughed at a bit.
But to be laughed at is better than to be scorned."
"What under the sun do you mean, girl?" he exclaimed, both startled
and horrified by her determined words.
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