"'Grard Moore, you know you don't love Shirley Keeldar.' I might have broken out into false swearing--vowed that I did love her; but I could not lie in her pure face. I could not perjure myself in her truthful presence. Besides, such hollow oaths would have been vain as void. She would no more have believed me than she would have believed the ghost of Judas, had he broken from the night and stood before her. Her female heart had finer perceptions than to be cheated into mistaking my half-coarse, half-cold admiration for true-throbbing, manly love.
"What next happened? you will say, Mr. Yorke.

"'Grard Moore, you know you don't love Shirley Keeldar,' she said. I might have broken out into false swearing - vowed that I did love her; but I could not lie in her face. Besides, she would not have believed me. She would never have mistaken my half-coarse, half-cold admiration for true manly love.
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