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'Darling, we're being parted,' whispered Maria. 'Darling, I know you must go. But--but--I can't think how I'm going to live without you. You're my whole life. You're...'

A great gust of tenderness welled up in Hornblower's breast, and there was compunction too, a pricking of conscience. Not the most perfect man on earth could merit this devotion. If Maria knew the truth about him she would turn away from him, her whole world shattered. The cruelest thing he could do would be to let her find him out; he must never do that. Yet the thought of being loved so dearly set flowing deeper and deeper wells of tenderness in his breast and he kissed her cheeks and sought out the soft eager lips. Then the soft lips hardened, withdrew.

'No, angel, darling. No, I mustn't keep you. You would be angry with me--afterwards. Oh, my dear life, say good-bye to me now. Say that you love me--say that you'll always love me. Then say good-bye, and say that you'll think of me sometimes as I shall always think of you.'