“It’s true!” she answered hotly.  “You had no right!  It was mere brute strength!  You cannot deny what you have been—­to that miserable woman!” Tears of anger sped from her eyes, and she dashed them hotly away.

Van stepped a little closer.

“Beth,” he said, suddenly taking her hand, “none of this is true, and you know it.  You’re angry with that woman, not with me.”

She snatched her hand away.

“You shan’t!” she said.  “Don’t you dare to touch me again.  I hate you—­hate you for what you have done!  You’ve been a brute probably to her as well as to me!”

“To you?  When?” he demanded

“All the time!  To-day!—­Now!—­when you say I’m angry at a—­woman who is dead!—­a woman who died for you!”

It hit him.

“Poor Queenie,” he said, “poor child.”

“Yes—­poor Queenie!” Her eyes blazed in the moonlight.  “To think that you dared to treat me like——­”

“Beth!” he interrupted, “I won’t permit it.  I told you to-day I loved you.  That makes things right.  You love me, and that makes them sacred.  I’d do all I’ve done over again—­all of it—­Queenie and the rest!  I’m not ashamed, nor sorry for anything I’ve done.  I love you—­I say—­I love you.  That’s what I’ve never done before—­and never said I did—­and that’s what makes things right!”

Beth was confused by what he said—­confused in her judgment, her emotions.  Weakly she clung to her argument.

“You haven’t any right—­it isn’t true when you say I love you.  I don’t!  I won’t!  You can’t deny that woman died of a broken heart for you!”

“I don’t deny anything about her,” he said.  “I tried to be her friend.  God knows she needed friends.  She was only a child, a pretty child.  I’m sorry.  I’ve always been sorry.  She knew I was only a friend.”

She felt he was honest.  She knew he was wrung—­suffering, but not in his conscience.  Yet what was she to think?  She had heard it all—­all of Queenie’s story.

“You kissed her,” she said, and red flamed up in her cheeks.

“It was all she asked,” he answered simply.  “She was dying.”

“And you’re paying for her funeral.”

“I said I was her friend.”

“Oh, the shamelessness of it!” she exclaimed as before, “—­the way it looks!  And to think of what you dared to do to me!”

“Yes, I kissed you without your asking,” he confessed.  “I expect to kiss you a hundred thousand times.  I expect to make you my wife—­for a love like ours is rare.  Whatever else you think you want to say, Beth—­now—­don’t say it—­unless it’s just good-night.”

With a sudden move forward he took her two shoulders in his powerful hands and gave her a rough little shake.  Then his palms went swiftly to her face, he kissed her on the lips, and let her go.

“You!—­Oh!” she cried, and turning she ran down the slope of the hill as hard as she could travel.