Swiftly he sought her glance; her eyes gave irrefutable answer. Unresistingly, she abandoned herself to his arms, and he felt her bosom rise and fall with conflicting emotions. Closely he held her, in the surprise and surpassing pleasure of the moment; then, bending, he kissed her lips. A wave of color flooded her face, though her eyes still sought his. But even as he regarded her, the clear, open look gradually changed, replaced by one of half-perplexity, half-reproach.
“That night you went away––why did you not defend yourself?” she asked, finally.
“I never imagined––any mistake. Besides, what had I to offer? Your future was bright; your name, on every one’s lips!”
“Did you think you were responsible for another’s sins?”
His dark features clouded.
“I suppose I had become accustomed to cold looks. In Africa, by some of my comrades who had an inkling of the story! No matter what I did, I was his brother! And the bitterest part was that I loved him; loved him from my boyhood! He was the handsomest, most joyous fellow! Even when he died in my arms in Mexico my heart could not absolutely turn from him.”
She opened her lips as if to speak, but the shadow on his face kept her silent.