“Save? Save from what?”
“Don’t press me, dearest,” he said tenderly. “Trust me that it is best for you not to know.”
“Percy, dear,” she said gently, as she laid her hand upon his arm; “you can trust me. I always knew there must be something very terrible to make Mr Stratton behave toward poor Myra as he did, and you and I have been plotting and planning to find it out, in the hope that it would prove to be a trouble we could bridge over, and bring them together again. You have discovered it all then at last?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me.”
“I cannot—I dare not.”
Edie was silent for a few moments, as she sat gazing straight before her into the dimly lit back drawing room, her eyes suffused with tears, as she at last said in a whisper:
“You asked me the other day if I would be your wife.”
“And you promised me an answer when I knew all,” said Guest, cutting the ground from beneath his feet.
“And now you know, and I’ll tell you,” she said, hardly above her breath. “Yes, Percy, some day when we have made poor Myra happy.”