That came as a shock and a surprise. It could not be possible that she did not care for him!
“Why, Gail dear, I love you!” he suddenly told her, with more fervour than she had ever heard in his tone. He slipped from the edge of the couch to his knee on the floor, where he could look up into her downcast eyes. He put his arm around her, and drew her closer. He clasped her hands in his own strong palm. “Listen, Gail dear; we grew up together.” He was tender now, tender and pleading, and his voice had in it ranges of modulation which it had never developed before this night. “You were my very first sweetheart; and the only one. Even as a boy in school, when you were only a little kiddie, I made up my mind to marry you, and I’ve never given up that dream. All my life I’ve loved you, stronger and deeper as the years went on, until now the love that is in me sways every thought, every action, every emotion. I love you, Gail dear! All my heart and all my soul is in it.”
She had not drawn away from his embrace, she had not removed her hands from his clasp; instead, she had yielded somewhat towards this old friend.
“I can’t do without you any longer, Gail!” he impetuously went on, detecting that yielding in her. “You must marry me! Tell me that you will!”
She disengaged herself from him very gently.
“I can’t, Howard.” Her voice was so low that he could scarcely catch the words, and her face was filled with sorrow.
He held tense and rigid where she had left him.
“You can’t,” he repeated, numbly.
“It is impossible,” and her face cleared of all its perplexity. She was grave, and serious, and saddened; but still sure. “For the first time I know my own mind clearly, and I know that I do not now, and never can, care for you in the way you wish.”
He rose abruptly and stood before her. His brows were knotted, and there was a hard look on his face.