"Ah!" His eyes were closing; he opened them again. "You mean that, sweetheart? You really want me?"
"Of course I do," she said.
Guy was still smiling but there was pathos in his smile. "Ah, that makes a difference," he said, "—all the difference. That means you've quite forgiven me. Quite, Sylvia?"
"Quite," she answered, and she spoke straight from her heart. She had forgotten Burke, forgotten Kieff, forgotten everyone in that moment save Guy, the dear lover of her youth.
And he too was looking at her with eyes that saw her alone. "Kiss me, little sweetheart!" he said softly. "And then I'll know—for sure."
It was boyishly spoken, and she could not refuse. She had no thought of refusing.
As in the old days when they had been young together, her heart responded to the call of his. She leaned down to him instantly and very lovingly, and kissed him.
"Sure you want me?" whispered Guy.
"God knows I do," she answered him very earnestly.
He smiled at her and closed his eyes. "Good night!" he murmured.