“Honesty! honesty!” he said. “Helen!”
A long-drawn breath rose in her bosom, filling it, filling her, filling everything. A “Sunday Magazine” dropped from her hand, and she stood up. He too stood, and they faced each other for a long moment, and the new certainty became the only certainty there was.
“Oh, are you sure, are you sure?” she cried.
And there was no more need of words just then.
“Since you took the hare out of the trap,” she said. “I think I loved you for that.”
“Since you caught my finger in the trap——“
“And it bled,” said she.
“But you bound it up for me.”
She raised her face and held him by the shoulders, arms outstretched.
“And I remember saying to Martin that this was the sort of room in which nothing nice could happen. Oh, Frank, how has it happened? How has it happened?” she said.