Her face, marked with tears, not untouched by suffering, startled him.
"Are you—ill?" he said.
"Just—just tired" she said.
"Shall I go?… Shall I come again to-morrow?"
"No." She was aware of his concern, of the self-effacing thoughtfulness of his offer. He was a good boy, decent and kind. He deserved better than he was getting…. She bit her lips and vowed that, giving no love, she would make him happy. She must make him happy.
"You know why I've come, Ruth," he said. "It has seemed a long time to wait—since last night. You know why I've come?"
"Yes."
"You have—thought about me?"
"Yes."
He stepped forward eagerly. "You look so unhappy, so tired. It hasn't been worrying you like this? I couldn't bear to think it had…. I—I don't want you ever worried or tired, but always—glad…. I've been walking up and down outside for an hour. Couldn't stay away…. Ruth, you haven't been out of my mind since last night—since yesterday morning. I've had time to think about you…. I'm beginning to realize how much you mean to me. I'll never realize it fully—but it will come to me more every day, and every day I shall love you more than I did the day before—if your answer can be yes. …" He turned away his head and said, "I'm afraid to ask…."
"I will marry you," she said, in a dead voice. She felt cold, numb. Her body seemed without sensation, but her mind was sharply clear. She wanted to scream, but she held herself.