"I had feared—" she paused.
"What had you feared?"
"That you might not come. You didn't reply—"
"This is my reply."
He raised her lips slowly to his own and took them. Her eyes were closed as though she feared to open them, and show him the dawn of her womanhood. But in a moment her figure relaxed in his arms and her head sank upon his shoulder in token of surrender.
"Mad little Hermia!" he whispered.
"Mad no longer," she sighed.
"You must prove it. I'll not let you go until I'm sure you won't go flying from me again."
"I don't want you to let me go. I want you to hold me tight. It is—rest. I'm tired of going. I want to stay—here."
"You love me?"