Without opening his eyes he spoke her name.
"Yes, Bertram, yes," she responded joyfully.
"I love you, Linda."
Her heart bounded, and he felt it; and she did not change her position.
"I shall always love you. Whitcomb has stirred your gratitude toward me. I don't care for it."
"Yes, I know," answered the girl, still holding him close.
"You wouldn't palm that off on me, would you?"
"I want to be fair"—the response was low. King's hands lay loosely before him. "All that I am sure of is that I belong to you, Bertram."
"Are you certain that's all? It's a good deal, but it's not enough."
Linda's bosom labored. She remembered the longings of the last weeks, the many moments of despair.