"Why? Do you mean that, after last night, you would trust yourself here ... with me ... and no one else? Didn't we both admit that it was too much for us—unless we separated?"
"After last night," she responded, and the fearlessness of her voice utterly confounded him, "I would trust myself with you anywhere."
"God in Heaven!" he burst out. "Don't you realize that all strength is relative? Don't you know that any boiler ever made will explode if you give it enough pressure?"
"It's not a test I welcome either," she declared seriously. "But I do believe in you now—and there's another side to it." After a moment's hesitation she went on slowly: "After going through last night—and after trying to face the future ... there's comfort in feeling that he trusts me like that. I don't deserve it, but I'd like to ... and when he comes back to-morrow, if there's one day more of fight left in you, Stuart dear—I can."
His expression changed and he said dubiously: "It's going to be hard."
"Yes, but how can we tell him that?"
He nodded acknowledgment of the point. "There is something in being trusted," he told her resolutely. "If you can feel secure with me one day more—I'll go through with it."
So Eben had his way and put his own damaging construction on the result.
"Good!" he announced when the visitor finally acceded; "I felt sure you wouldn't leave me in the lurch. I'll drive the buggy to the train and leave it at the livery stable until I get back—since we have no chauffeur."
When Tollman had gone Stuart came to Conscience on the terrace. "You'll be all right here for a while, won't you?" he asked. "I think I'll go for a tramp."