I had small need to appeal to her imagination. Her mind was already whirling with the possibilities of such a situation. She stared at me, dazed, speechless, her eyes filled with terror. Then she collapsed and fell into my arms.
"Oh, Chester, what shall I do? Take care of me! I'm so frightened!"
"You must listen to me, Joy," I said. "I love you so that my heart will break if you don't consent and let me help you. You must be my wife, and then we can defy them and fight it out together."
She started up with a new thought. "Oh, hasn't Edna a right to her love, too? Won't it be as bad for her, possibly, if I consent? How can I force her to suffer that! How can I bear to think of your being with her while I'm wandering, lost, eclipsed? Oh, don't you see how shockingly impossible the whole thing is? We can neither of us dare to love. We have no right even to think of it! How can you suggest it? It's unthinkable!"
"But you love me?" I asked.
She offered me her lips for the first time, and clung to me, trembling.
"Then nothing is impossible. We'll wait a while, and see. But at least, so far as the doctor is concerned, I can't afford to be stultified. You'll not repudiate my announcement? You'll admit it to him, if he asks? I must have that weapon against him."
She turned it over in her mind. "I'll not deny it," she said finally, "but you must not consider it a promise. It's simply too ghastly to think of!"
I had gained that much, at any rate, and though my heart sank at the thought of the possibilities our words had pictured, I still hoped to be inspired to some successful plan for attack and defense. I knew that Joy loved me—that was everything. It made me bolder and more confident. So I put the horrors from me and thought only of our love.
She turned suddenly toward me and said: "What would you do for me, Chester?"