She waited a moment and when he did not look at her, shook his arm gently.
"Everything has been going so splendidly for you, dear! Your father can't keep his pride to himself. He tells everybody about you. He's ready to help you—the world is before you, John—
"Promises?" She laughed nervously. "The only promise you made me was happiness and that happiness is yours to give me—for the asking."
She paused, smiled wistfully, and Taylor looked down at her again.
"No, Marcia, I can't give you the happiness you want," he said evenly. A flicker of hostility showed in her eyes. "There's such a difference in the happiness that you wanted and the happiness—you see, I'm not the John Taylor I was when I left you," very earnestly. "I've changed in the things I want and respect and because of that I've changed in almost every thought and impulse. I couldn't help this change if I wanted to; I'm not trying to crawl out of a mighty uncomfortable position; I'm telling you facts.
"The John Taylor who came up here started to make a fortune for you, to give you happiness in the terms of possessions that you could see and touch. That isn't possible any more. I can't do that—even after I've promised to do it—I didn't come to Windigo yesterday because I knew that some such thing as this would have to be said, though I didn't admit it even to myself until last night—and I didn't want to hurt you—I've tried to hide from the fact that the next time we saw each other—I'd have to ask you to—cancel our contract—"
"I don't understand," she said coolly and drew back.
