“My dear, my dearest, are you, too, against me?” he asked.
She met his gaze without flinching, but the bright colour swept suddenly to her cheeks and dyed them crimson.
“Then if you will go, take me with you,” she said.
He fell back as if a star had dropped at his feet. For a breathless instant she saw only his eyes, and they drew her step by step. Then he opened his arms and she went straight into them.
“Betty, Betty,” he said in a whisper, and kissed her lips.
She put her hands upon his shoulders, and stood with his arms about her, looking up into his face.
“Take me with you—oh, take me with you,” she entreated. “I can't be left. Take me with you.”
“And you love me—Betty, do you love me?”
“I have loved you all my life—all my life,” she answered; “how can I begin to unlove you now—now when it is too late? Do you think I am any the less yours if you throw me away? If you break my heart can I help its still loving you?”
“Betty, Betty,” he said again, and his voice quivered.