"Have you got over it?" said Valerie.
With the point at his throat, Anthony did the only possible thing, and threw down his arms.
"No," he said steadily, "I haven't, and I don't think I ever shall."
There was a long, long silence, which the suck and gurgle of water fretting a crazy sluice-gate had to themselves. Then—
"What d'you mean?" breathed Valerie.
"I think," said Lyveden, "that I shall love you as long as I live."
Valerie just sighed very happily.
"I think," she said, standing a-tiptoe, "I'm the luckiest woman of all the ages."
Then she slid an arm through Anthony's, and they started back….
Anthony's brain was whirling. He did not know what to think. What was worse, he did not know what to do. Did she think he had called back Time? That he had asked her to marry him? Had he? Were his words tantamount to that? Was he prepared to marry her—this wonderful, glorious creature stepping so joyously beside him—this peerless queen, who had wronged him, yet in his eyes could do no wrong? As once before, that touch upon his arm sent the blood singing through his veins. His pulses leaped and danced. An old strange joy came welling…. It was as if a fountain within him had begun to play—an old forgotten fountain, long dry—and the sun was turning its delicate spray to a flourish of sprinkled silver. Against his better judgment he turned and looked at her. My lady felt his gaze, and turned to meet it with a swift smile. All the beauty of youth, all the tenderness of love, all the shyness of maidenhood hung in that glowing countenance. As once before, twin stars had come to light the gentle gravity of those dark blue eyes. The mouth he had kissed in anger was a red flower….