not the woman I’ve believed you to be. But reproaches are idle between us. You
are the only woman I can ever love. I thank you for your friendship, at least.
Good-bye, Anne.”
“Good-bye,” faltered Anne. When Roy had gone she sat for a long time in the
pavilion, watching a white mist creeping subtly and remorselessly landward up
the harbor. It was her hour of humiliation and self-contempt and shame. Their
waves went over her. And yet, underneath it all, was a queer sense of recovered
freedom.
She slipped into Patty’s Place in the dusk and escaped to her room. But Phil
was there on the window seat.
“Wait,” said Anne, flushing to anticipate the scene. “Wait til you hear what I
have to say. Phil, Roy asked me to marry him-and I refused.”
“You—you REFUSED him?” said Phil blankly.
“Yes.”
“Anne Shirley, are you in your senses?”
“I think so,” said Anne wearily. “Oh, Phil, don’t scold me. You don’t
understand.”
“I certainly don’t understand. You’ve encouraged Roy Gardner in every way
for two years—and now you tell me you’ve refused him. Then you’ve just been
flirting scandalously with him. Anne, I couldn’t have believed it of YOU.”
“I WASN’T flirting with him—I honestly thought I cared up to the last minute
—and then—well, I just knew I NEVER could marry him.”
“I suppose,” said Phil cruelly, “that you intended to marry him for his money,
and then your better self rose up and prevented you.”
“I DIDN’T. I never thought about his money. Oh, I can’t explain it to you any
more than I could to him.”
“Well, I certainly think you have treated Roy shamefully,” said Phil in
exasperation. “He’s handsome and clever and rich and good. What more do you
want?”
“I want some one who BELONGS in my life. He doesn’t. I was swept off my
feet at first by his good looks and knack of paying romantic compliments; and
later on I thought I MUST be in love because he was my dark-eyed ideal.”
“I am bad enough for not knowing my own mind, but you are worse,” said
Phil.
“I DO know my own mind,” protested Anne. “The trouble is, my mind