"You don't speak, Nelson. You look strange when I say, 'Did we not love each other?'"
"No wonder, Katharine—why should you ask the question? If to make a fool of one's self is a proof of love, you have it!"
"To make a fool of one's self?" The poor girl turned white to the lips as she repeated these insulting words. "What does this mean, Nelson?"
"It means that you and I went off, like a couple of dunces, and got married!"
Katharine stopped crying. Surprise, for a moment, kept her mute; but directly there came into her eyes a proud, almost fierce determination, that Thrasher had never witnessed before.
"Do you mean this?" she said at last, in a low, clear voice, that made him start.
"Mean what?"
"That you are sorry for having married me."
There was something in her face that startled him—that woman's character had a depth and strength which he had not dreamed of until then. It was not his habit to evade or equivocate much, but now he saw the necessity.
"I haven't said that, and did not mean it, my sparrow-hawk. How could I?"