"
"But--"
"We needn't go into it. I want to try to forget it, although I never
shall. Good-bye."
"I can't let you go like this. Let me drive you home."
"Home!" laughed Mavis scornfully. "I've no home."
"Really no home?"
"I haven't a soul in the world who cares what becomes of me: not a
friend in the world. And all I valued you've soiled. It made me hate
you, and nothing will ever alter it. Good-bye."
She turned away. The man followed.
"Look here, I'll tell you all about myself, which shows my
intentions are straight."
"It wouldn't interest me."
"Why not? You liked me before--before that happened, and, when
you've forgiven me, there's no reason why you shouldn't like me
again."
"There's every reason."
"My name's Windebank--Archibald Windebank. I'm in the service, and
my home is Haycock Abbey, near Melkbridge--"
"You gave me your wrong name!" cried Mavis, who, now that she knew
that the man was the friend of her early days, seized on any excuse
to get away from him.
"But--"
"Don't follow me. Good-bye."
She crossed the road. He came after her and seized her arm.
"Don't be a fool!" he cried.
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