she hang on his words and keep her eyes on his? Else why was it so still in the room, as though the world too waited for speech from his lips?
"I can't do it!" burst from him suddenly. "By God, I can't do it!"
"What, Harry?" The words were no more than breathed. He came right up to her and caught her by the arm.
"You see all that—everything here? You love it?"
"Yes."
"As much as I do? As much as I do?" His self-control was gone. She made no answer; she could not understand.
With an effort he mastered himself.
"Yes, you love it," he said, and a smile came on his face. "I'm glad you love it. As God lives, unless you'd loved it, I'd have spoken not a word of this. But you're one of us, you're a Tristram. I don't know the real rights of it, but I'll run no risk of cheating a Tristram. You love it all?"
"Yes, yes, Harry. But why, dear Harry, why?"
"Why? Because it's yours."