Now he was looking at her; and she must be looking at him, for there was nothing on this settee which would give her a good reason not to look at him. The room was so still that beyond the closed door the hoarse tick of the cuckoo-clock was audible; and what was that behind her which was fretting against the window-pane? And why was she holding with each hand to the brocade, as if she feared to be swept altogether out of this world?
"Pauline!"
Was it indeed her voice on earth that said 'yes'?
"Pauline, I suppose you know I love you?"
And she was saying 'yes.'
"Pauline, do you love me?"
And again she had said 'yes.'
Outside in the corridor the cuckoo snapped the half-hour: then it seemed to tick faster and a thousand times faster. She must turn away from Guy, and as she turned she saw that what had been fretting the window-pane was a spray of yellow jasmine. Upon the cheek that was turned from him the dipping sun shed a warm glow, but the one nearer was a flame of fire.
"Pauline!"
He had knelt beside her in that moment; and leaning over to his nearness, Pauline looked down at her hand in his, as if she were gazing at a flower which had been gathered.