She had withdrawn her hand from his and was regarding him now with an expression of wonder.
“Why, Jim, what do you mean?” she asked, aghast at his torrent of words. She had never before seen him under stress of uncontrollable excitement.
“I mean what I say. Can’t you see how I love you?”
Lucy had forgotten the troubles which brought her there and rose from her chair with fear in her eyes.
“Stop, Jim,” she commanded. “I’ve trusted you, too, and you have no right to talk this way.”
Jim had risen also, and now he came around the desk and stood in front of her, his eyes seeking hers insistently.
“Right!” he repeated. “I have the right that my love gives me, a love that never let me think of another woman since I first saw you. You’ve trusted me and you ought to have, because I’m worthy to be trusted. You trusted your husband too, and he allows the first miserable flirt that comes into his house to—”
“I’m going, Jim. I can’t listen to such things.” Lucy moved toward the door.
“Stop, Lucy,” he pleaded. “Don’t go.”
She hesitated. Her manner was hunted.
“I’ll talk reasonably,” he promised. He was very pale. His voice was low again. “Sit down, please,” he added as she remained undecided.
She reseated herself, smoothing out her gloves over and over with shaking fingers. Jim took his place in his chair by the desk and picked up the pencil. They regarded each other with fear and questioning. He had the look of a man prepared to overcome hard things.
“I suppose you’re thinking of John’s confidence in me, and what I owe myself in view of it, and all that,” he began.
“No, I don’t judge you. You have always seemed so like a—no, not like a brother, but like a dear friend and comrade that I could always depend on—I never thought—” The words would not come and Lucy continued smoothing her gloves.
Jim had himself in hand again and began speaking very carefully, drawing circles and squares on a piece of paper as he talked.
“John and I have been together nearly all our lives. I am not going to say anything against him, Lucy, but before I knew you I realized that he was—was not as strong as he should be. When I saw you I gave you the devotion of my soul that—I needed somebody, Lucy—that I had been trying to give him, because you were worthy of it. I knew you were the most desirable woman I had ever seen and I acknowledged this to myself without cant. I was proud to give you this honor in my heart, and I was prouder that I gave it to you as you really were. What John gave to you was a hazy outline of a woman seen through a mist of sex idealism. Anyone else would have done as well as you. But I never doubted the reality of his love, such as it was.”
Lucy began to show uneasiness again. Jim noticed it and hastened on.
“When your mother came I realized at once that you were in for a hard time and I stood ready to help John. I saw that she wanted to be a high priestess between you two and I set out to combat her influence over him. I tried my best, but he didn’t want any help. He could have stood with you and it would have been easy, for your mother is too cowardly to carry anything through against opposition. But he fell for any suggestion she put out, and turned against me, which wasn’t so bad, and then against you who were more loyal to him than I even. Every cheap, despicable little woman’s trick that a baby could see through was another excuse for turning away from the straightest and most lovable woman in the world and putting a little contemptible, shallow—”
“Jim, please,” interrupted Lucy, stretching out her hand and touching his.
His body stiffened at the contact, but with a strong effort he restrained himself from another outburst.
“Lucy, I can’t help it. His idea of woman is the harem idea. He doesn’t want you because you are too big and too good. She suits him better. They don’t want you. They don’t want us. We’ve only got each other. We need each other, Lucy. I would never have said a word or made a sign if he’d been square—if he’d appreciated you and wanted you. But you’ve wanted honesty in your relation with him, and he couldn’t stand it. He’s failed. He’s had his chance. You don’t owe him anything more, and I don’t. We’re free, Lucy. We’re free to take each other. My darling, if you knew how I love you—” His voice grew husky with emotion.
Lucy rose again, pale as he. Jim sprang to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Lucy! You can’t, you shan’t leave me without saying you love me. I won’t allow you to let a convention rob you of my love. You’re mine, Lucy, mine, mine, mine!” and he strained her to him.
For an instant her resistance was broken and she rested in his arms as though it were at last a place where she could be safe. Then she gently drew herself away and Jim sank into the chair beside her, his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry,” she began in a shaking voice. “I believe you are a noble man, Jim. You stand for more to me now than anyone else in the world, but—I
