Tom caught her in his arms: but she put him back, and looked up in his face again.
"Promise me!" she said, in a low clear voice; "promise me this one thing only, as you are a gentleman; as you have a man's pity, a man's gratitude in you"
"Anything!"
"Promise me that you will never ask, or seek to know, who had that belt."
"I promise: but, Grace!—"
"Then my work is over," said she in a calm collected voice. "Amen. So lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace. Good-bye, Mr. Thurnall. I must go and pack up my few things now. You will forgive and forget?"
"Grace!" cried Tom; "stay!" and he girdled her in a grasp of iron. "You and I never part more in this life, perhaps not in all lives to come!"
"Me? I?—let me go! I am not worthy of you!"
"I have heard that once already;—the only folly which ever came out of those sweet lips. No! Grace, I love you, as man can love but once; and you shall not refuse me! You will not have the heart, Grace! You will not dare, Grace! For you have begun the work; and you must finish it."
"Work? What work?"