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The girl clung to him desperately.

“Oh, Simon, I can’t, I can’t. Not all at once like this. I know they’ve got to be broken, but they needn’t be torn. Just once or twice we can be alone again. I shan’t be married at once. Let’s break them gradually, darling. Then I’ll have something to look for—to buoy me up to-night. Life looks so terribly dark, Simon. Let me have just a ray of light. Just once or twice—that’s all. You know. Just a word and a kiss. Don’t smash my world to-night. Even the torturers, Simon, never did things like that. They worked by degrees—gradually, so that the torture could be borne.”

The man smiled into her eyes.

As a moment ago her touch had soothed him, so now her weakness seemed to have made him strong.

“Pat, this isn’t like you. We must keep troth. If we didn’t end it to-night and go down smiling, we should spoil everything. Together we planted the prettiest little flower: and it’s grown so lovely, Pat, and smelled so very sweet: and now—it’s time to pick it.... Well, we must pick it properly—not drag it up piecemeal. And then—for ever, think what a memory we’ll have—that we weren’t afraid to pick our pretty flower ... when it was in full bloom. We’ll be so proud and happy to remember that. It won’t have faded or died. It’ll ’ve been just perfect—all the time.... And we must pick it smiling, Pat—just for each other’s sake.”