“Thank God,” he said, “we cannot see one another’s faces—never shall again.”
“Cherry!”
“Yes, call me that.”
“Cherry, mayn’t I hope? I’ve been good.”
“I may not, Molly.”
“She told me to—to save your soul. Perhaps when you’re gone away, and safe? I could wait until you changed to me.”
Her words wrung his heart. This child, so true and faithful to him to the last! and his own immeasurable baseness to her—in thought and deed alike! What could it matter now? Let love be still a casuist for love’s sake.
He put his arms about her; set his lips upon her face, with some new rehearsal of an ancient passion.
“Before God, Molly, if I live, I will marry you.”
* * * * * * * *