"
"Nothing can spoil your life except yourself," she declared firmly, and
she laid a hand upon his arm. "Who told you all this--and when?"
"My mother in a letter last night. I had a talk with her afterwards."
"Who else knows?" "Only you."
"And why did you tell me?"
"Because I want you to know why our ways must for ever lie apart."
"I don't grasp what you mean," she declared in a low voice.
"You don't grasp why, loving you, I didn't ask you to marry me long ago;
but you found out for yourself from the one who was responsible, and
freed me and saved me; and now you know I am an illegitimate son."
"And you want to cut me out of your life for a bad man's crime, not your
own. . . . Listen, Carnac. Last night I told Mr. Tarboe I could not
marry him. He is rich, he has control of a great business, he is a man
of mark. Why do you suppose I did it, and for over two years have done
the same?--for he has wanted me all that time. Does not a girl know when
a real man wants her? And Luke Tarboe is a real man. He knows what he
wants, and he goes for it, and little could stop him as he travels. Why
do you suppose I did it?" Her face flushed, anger lit her eyes.
"Because there was another man; but I've only just discovered he's a
sham, with no real love for me. It makes me sorry I ever knew him."
"Me--no real love for you! That's not the truth: it's because I have no
real name to give you--that's why I've spoken as I have.
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