"Andrew," she whispered, "I have been ashamed. I was wrong. That night—the thought of my pettiness—my foolish, selfish fears.—Oh, I was wrong! I have prayed that the time might come when I could tell you. And if you hadn't come, I never could have told you. I couldn't have written. I couldn't have come to London. But I wanted you to know."
She drew his head down and kissed him upon the lips. Tallente knew then why he had come. The whole orchestra of life was playing again. He was strong enough to overcome mountains.
"Andrew," she faltered, "you really—"
He stopped her.
"Jane," he said, "I have some stupid news. It seems to me incredibly stupid. Let me pass it on to you quickly. You knew, didn't you, that I was married in America? Well, my wife has divorced me there. We married in a State where such things are possible."
"Divorced you?" she exclaimed.
"Quite legally," he went on. "I saw a lawyer before I started yesterday morning. But listen to the rest of it. Stella is married—married to the man I thought I had thrown over the cliff. She is married to Anthony Palliser."
"Then you are free?" Jane murmured, drawing a little away. "Not in the least," he replied. "I am engaged to marry you."
At luncheon, with Parkins in attendance, it became possible for them to converse coherently.
"When I found you at home in the middle of the morning," he said, "I was afraid that you were Ill."