"Constantine Stewart, I don't want to remarry you, you know that. Although I'm very poor, come from a low background, and am an orphan, I am also a real person of flesh and blood.
You've raised me up, and I've always remembered that. Since we've already reached this point, why not keep moving forward and start a new life? Isn't it good? Why do we have to extinguish every last bit of affection?" She stared at him with her dark eyes, unflinchingly.
Constantine Stewart's heart was aching with bitterness; all he wanted was for her to be his wife.
"No new life." The man's voice was almost inaudible.
Constantine Stewart reached out, his long, fair fingers defined by clear joints, wanting to hold her hand. Yet he restrained himself from grasping it tightly; she didn't understand that now she was his new life.
