His deep voice trembled. "Then you know that I
love you--love you!"
He repeated the simple words as if laying his whole self--body, soul and
spirit, at her feet.
And the woman, in very wonder at the fullness of the offering, was as one
transfixed and could find no word fit to express her acceptance of the
gift.
"It is my right to tell you this," he said proudly--defiantly almost, as
though challenging some unseen spirit or power. "And it is your right to
answer me."
"Yes," she said, "it is our right."
"Then you do care for me, Hope? I am not mistaken--you do?"
"Can you doubt it?" she asked.
He moved quickly toward her but she checked him, and while the love in
her eyes answered to the mastering passion in his, she seemed in some
subtle manner to build up a protecting wall between them, a wall to guard
them both.
"I do not understand," he faltered.
"You must think," she bade him quietly, firmly. "Don't you see that,
while it is right for you to tell me what you have, and right for me to
tell you how proud--how glad your words have made me, and how with all
my heart and life I--I--love you, this--," her voice faltered now, "don't
you see that this must be all?"
"All?" he questioned.
"All," she answered. "Everything that I said to you the first day that we
met here is still true. Don't you see that I can never, never be more to
you than I am now?"
As one who hears himself sentenced to life-exile Big Dan dropped his
head, burying his face in his hands.
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