“I believe it now!” he said.
“It’s true!” she answered, so low that he scarcely heard it.
“I love you!”
“I’ve loved you always!”
Then even in her joy the recollection of all that she had come through to this moment brought back that quivering of her chin, which had become only too familiar to him in days past. His head sank toward her, and their lips met.
After a while he led her back to her chair, and knelt down to look up at her. For there were other difficulties. He had nothing to give her, he said; neither riches nor family nor honor nor any future of which he could be assured. She stopped him, with a hand laid gently on his lips. He held it there, kissing it. How it had toiled and hurt for him, that little hand, still rough and scarred!
“Can you ever forgive me?” he pleaded.
“There’s nothing to forgive, Philip. You did not understand.”
“There! You’re treating me like a child again!” he protested, smiling contentedly.