Now she was here, within reach of his hand, her face, not beautiful by day, very lovely to his eyes as the rising moon stretched a ribbon of light across the lake to touch her with its magic glow... and he could not find words to say what must be said.

He had seated her on the bench and now paced up and down before her, struggling to become coherent.

Then words came, a torrent of them, not coherent, not eloquent, but real.  Ruth recognized the reality in them.  “I want you,” he said, standing over her.  “I didn’t know—­I didn’t realize ... until to-day.  It’s so. ...  It’s been so right along.  That’s why I had to come to you. ...  I couldn’t get along without seeing you, but I didn’t know why. ...  I thought it was to see you smile.  But it was because I had to be near you. ...  I want to be near you always.  This morning I found out—­and all day I’ve waited to see you. ...  That’s all I’ve done—­thought about you and waited.  It seems as if morning were years away. ...  I don’t know what I’ve done all day—­just wandered around.  I didn’t eat—­until to-night.  I couldn’t.  I couldn’t do anything until I saw you—­and told you. ...  That’s why I brought you here. ...  I wanted to tell you here—­not back there. ...  Away from all that. ...  I can’t go on without you—­that’s what you mean to me.  You’re necessary—­like air or water. ...  I—­Maybe you haven’t thought about me this way.  I didn’t about you. ...  But you must ... you must!”

It was pitiful.  Tears wet Ruth’s cheeks and she caught her breath to restrain a rising sob.

He became calmer, gentler.  “Maybe I’ve surprised you,” he said.  “Maybe I’ve frightened you—­I hope not.  I don’t mean to frighten you.  I don’t want you ever to be frightened or worried. ...  I want to keep all kinds of suffering out of your life if you’ll let me.  Won’t you let me? ...”  He stood waiting.

“Mr. Foote,” she said, presently, “I—­” then she stopped.  She had intended to tell him about Dulac; that she loved him and had promised to marry him, but she could not utter the words.  It would hurt him so to know that she loved another man.  She could refuse him without that added pain.  “Don’t you see,” she said, “how impossible it is?  It wouldn’t do—­even if I cared for you.”

“If you cared for me,” he said, “nothing could make it impossible.”

“We belong in different worlds. ...  You couldn’t come down to mine; I wouldn’t fit into yours.  My world wouldn’t have you, and your world wouldn’t have me. ...  Don’t you see?”

“I don’t see.  What has your world or mine to do with it?  It’s just you and me.”

“When you saw that your family wouldn’t have me, when you found out that your friends wouldn’t be friends with me, and that they didn’t want to be friends with you any longer just because you married me ...”

“I don’t want any friends or family but you,” he said, eagerly, boyishly.