“For God’s sake don’t look like that,” he said. “My darling one, what is it?”
“Are you going to tell me there is something that must part us?” she managed to gasp out.
“Good God, no!” he answered vehemently. “At least,” he added, sadly doubtful, “that depends on yourself.”
The colour came back to her face and her eyes lit up, sweetly, radiantly.
“Depends on myself,” she repeated. “Why, in that case nothing in the world can part us—nothing!”
“Are you sure?”
“Nothing. Nothing,” she reiterated. “Alaric, my darling, you have not been yourself of late. There is something on your mind, and that is what you are going to tell me now. Am I right?”
He nodded. Then, after a pause—
“Tell me again, Verna. Is there anything that could separate us, anything I may have done—not against yourself, mind!—in this wide world that could cause you to shrink from me? Is there? Think it out.”
“Why, of course not,” she answered, boldly serene now that the whole question lay in her own hands, almost laughing, in fact, although knowing full well she was on the verge of something tragic.