He stopped. She still lay against his breast.
"Why did you want—my friendship?" she whispered.
He made a curious gesture, as if he faced at last the inevitable. When he answered her his voice was very low. He seemed to speak against his will. "I—loved you."
"Ah!" It was scarcely more than a breath uttering the words. "And you never told me!"
He was silent.
She raised herself at last and faced him. Her hands were on his shoulders. "Percival," she said, and there was a strange light shining in the eyes that he had dried. "Is your love so small, then—as to be not—worth—mentioning?"
For the first time in her memory he avoided her look. "No," he said.
"What then?" Her voice was suddenly very soft and infinitely appealing.
He opened his arms with a gesture of renunciation "It is—beyond words," he said.
She leaned nearer. Her hands slipped upwards, clasping his neck.