"It seems to me"—petulantly—"that you don't want to believe it. And yet you tell me you half killed that coward just because—-"
"I loved you," said Blount.
"Ah!" She was not looking at the pebble now; she was looking at him. "You loved me then; I wonder—if you love me now."
"Elfrida!"
"You do?" She laughed again, so prettily, and held out to him her hand. He took it and held it fast.
"Why don't you kiss it?" she said, coquette to the last.
"I will not kiss your hand unless I may kiss you," said he. "And I would not kiss you unless you said you would be my wife."
"Wouldn't you?" said Elfrida. All her old audacity had come back to her. She stood erect, and looked at him defiantly. Her eyes sparkled; she did not, however, remove her hand from his grasp. It would have been difficult. "Very well, then, let me tell you that I wouldn't kiss you for anything you could offer— unless you said you would be my husband."
I don't think either of them knew which was the first. It was a simultaneous rush into each other's arms.
....