When Gracila turned up her exquisite face to gaze at Lord Damien, he said in a trembling voice:

''For God's sake, do not look at me like that... you who are so pure, so perfect, so innocent. Now when I see you, I know that I must go away. Go away!''

She echoed: ''But I do not understand.''

''I cannot meet you anymore. It is wrong for you, and hell for me.''

Gracila longed to cradle his head in her arms. ''You have suffered,'' she murmured, ''but perhaps I can make you happy.''

Lord Damien shielded his face from her pleading eyes. ''Gracila,'' he said, and his voice was raw, ''think what our life would be like with every door in the County shut against us, with every decent person pointing a finger of scorn. Do you really believe my love is so feeble that I would sacrifice you rather than myself?''

Gracila had never seen a man look so angry and determined.

''My mind is made up. I will leave tomorrow.''

She let out a long, piercing cry. ''No, I cannot... bear it! I cannot... lose you!''