"Why don't you marry? Any girl would consider herself fortunate if she could go through life with such a man as you."
Suddenly she winced. His big, muscular hand had caught hers and was holding it firmly in an steel-like grip. Bending over so close that she felt his warm breath on her cheek, he said hoarsely:
"Do you mean that? Would you give up all that you have now—to marry me?"
Something rose up in her throat and choked her. Her heart beat furiously as though it would burst. What she had foreseen and dreaded was upon her.
"I?" she gasped in unaffected surprise.
"Yes, you," he said fiercely. "You must have seen what has been in my heart for days—that I care for you. The first moment I set eyes on you I knew that you were just the kind of girl I wanted for a wife. At first I was afraid of you. I had heard things about you—gossip and all that. You came here. We were thrown together. I still mistrusted you, but I watched you, and saw you weren't as bad as I'd been led to believe. I guess people have lied about you. What do I care what they say? You're good enough for me. I soon found out that I loved you. I'm a man of very few words. I'm not an adept at pretty speeches. Tell me—will you marry me?"
She made no reply. It was now almost dark, and he could not see her face plainly. Hoarsely he repeated:
"Did you hear me? I want you to marry me."
She shook her head.
"It's impossible," she murmured. "It's impossible."