She turned quite white at the low, intense word.
“You understood me last night—and I was not—deceived?”
Her head drooped lower till the broad brim of her hat hid her face.
With one quick step he reached her side.
“Ruth, look at me.”
She never had been able to resist his compelling voice; and now with a swift-drawn breath she threw back her head and looked up at him fairly, with all her soul in her eyes.
“Are you satisfied?” she asked tremulously.
“Not yet,” he answered as with one movement he drew her to him.
“My Santa Filomena,” he murmured with his lips against her hair, “this is worth a lifetime of waiting; and I have waited long.”
In his close, passionate clasp her face was hidden; she hardly dared meet his eyes when he finally held her from him.