A tall, brown figure, somewhat leaner and older looking. Eyes that were clear——
“Grant!” she cried.
With no more thought than a snowflake takes to melt, she was in his arms, and their lips met in a kiss that stopped and sighed, then began again.
“We’d better close the door,” said Grant. In the little pause while he preserved appearances by shutting them in the apartment, she put herself away from him, a little breathless, her hair slipping down about her shoulders.
“What made me do that?” she trembled; he was turning to her again, and she drew away farther and kept the distance between them while leaving the hall.
“Joy——” The living room gained, he had come up to her again and was stroking her hair. “I’ve thought everything all out—oh, I’ve thought of nothing else—and everything’s clear in my mind now. Darling—I want you to marry me just as soon as you can.”
She stared up at him without meaning, her brain a tumult of horror about which revolved the question: “What made me do that?”
“I’ve thought it all out—and now I know—I was a fool to judge you by anything but my own love. I—want you, Joy.”
She jerked her head, and his caressing fingers tore her hair. “Go away, Grant, go and sit down far away from me—so we can talk this out—impartially!”
“Impartially! What’s there to talk out—impartially? Joy—I don’t know what I was thinking of, that night. To even question you—after what we had been, to each other——It’s all come clear to me, in these weeks of being without you.”