"And you will give me your word to keep it there," he said, looking up at her.
Her lips were quivering; she could not speak.
"Never mind," he said; "I can trust you."
He released her hand with the words, and there followed a brief silence while Nan stood struggling vainly for self-control.
Failing at length, she sank suddenly down upon her knees at the table hiding her face and crying as if her heart would break.
"My dear Anne!" he said. And then in a different tone, his hand upon her bowed head: "What is it child? Don't cry, don't cry! Is it so hard for you to be my wife?"
She could not answer him. His kindness was so strange to her. She could only sob under that gentle, comforting hand.
"Hush!" he said. "Hush! Don't be so distressed. Anne, listen! I will never be a savage to you again. I swear it on my honour, on my faith in you, and on the love I have for you. What more can I do?"
Still she could not answer him, but her tears were ceasing. Yielding to the pressure of his hand, she had drawn nearer to him. But she did not raise her head.
After a long, quivering silence she spoke.