"Aye, but he didn't rithely knaw you, and he didn't rithely knaw me eether."
He caught at the straw.
"Then you do loov me?"
She shook her head, and the tears from her long lashes starred her cheek.
"Nay, Joe: Ern's my man—always was and always will be."
He stood before her, firm on his feet, and solid as a rock, his fists clenched, his eyes on her, brilliant, dark, and kindly. She felt the thrill of him, his solidity, his sincerity, above all his strength, and thrilled to him again.
"A'm the mon for thee," he said.
She did not answer. In her ears was the roar of cataracts.
"Thoo dursena say me nay."
The words came from far off, from another world. Wavering like a flame in the wind, she heard but could make no reply.