"Dear, is it possible without knowing me—who, what I am—you—"
"I only know you," she said, softly. "That is all that matters."
"My little girl," he whispered, regarding her with unshed tears shining in his eyes.
She placed her two hands over her face for a moment.
"What is it, dear?"
She burrowed deeper into her hands.
"I'm so happy," she said, between her fingers.
They regarded each other with almost incredulous eyes, seeking to probe the web of enchantment their love had woven.
"I do not deserve this happiness, dearest." But his voice was a pæan of triumph.
"It is I who do not deserve," she said, in turn. "You are too—too everything for me."