"And my poor Lucy," Jane moaned on, "and the awful, awful disgrace!" Her face was still hidden in his shoulder, her frame shaking with the agony of her grief, the words coming slowly, as if wrung one by one out of her breaking heart.
"You did your duty, dear—all of it." His lips were close to her ear. No one else heard.
"And you knew it all these years, John—and you did not tell me."
"It was your secret, dear; not mine."
"Yes, I know—but I have been so blind—so foolish. I have hurt you so often, and you have been so true through it all. O John, please—please forgive me! My heart has been so sore at times—I have suffered so!"
Then, with a quick lifting of her head, as if the thought alarmed her, she asked in sudden haste:
"And you love me, John, just the same? Say you love me, John!"
He gathered her closer, and his lips touched her cheek:
"I never remember, my darling, when I did not love you. Have you ever doubted me?"
"No, John, no! Never, never! Kiss me again, my beloved. You are all I have in the world!"