But his fingers still refused to respond to her pressure.
“If I think of him at all, it is because I have learned how great a thing is love and how much the greater must be its loss. You know,” she whispered, timidly, “you know I—I love you.”
“God bless you for that,” he murmured.
They were so absorbed that they did not hear the sound behind them—a suppressed moan like that of an animal in pain.
“Will you forgive me?” asked the girl, at last. “It is all over now. I shall never speak of it again. I’ve spoiled your evening. You don’t regret?”
Crabb laughed happily.
“I’ll promise to be good,” she said, softly. “I’ll do whatever you ask me——”
“Will you marry me next month?”
“Yes,” she murmured, “whenever you wish.”