“Perhaps I’m taking a whole lot for granted,” he said humbly. “Perhaps you don’t love me––can’t even like me the way I hoped you do. Oh, Jane, speak quick, and tell me! Darling, can you ever love me enough? You haven’t drawn your hands away! Look up and let me read your eyes, please–––”
No, she had not drawn her hands away, and she did not shrink from his supporting arm––and she was the kind of girl who would not have allowed such familiarities unless––Ah! She had lifted her eyes and there was something blindingly beautiful in them, and tears––great wonderful tears, so sweet and misty that they made him glad with a thrill of beautiful pain! Her lips were trembling. He longed to kiss her, yet knew he must wait until he had her permission–––
“Allison! Listen! You are dear––wonderful––but you don’t know a thing about me!”
“I know all I want to know, and that is a great deal, you darling, you!” And now he did kiss her, and drew her close into his arms and would not let her go even when she struggled gently.
“Allison, listen. Listen––please! I must tell you! Wait–––!”
She put her hands against his breast and pushed herself back away from him where she could look in his face.
“Please, you must let me go and listen to what I have to say!”
“I’ll let you go when you tell me yes or no, Jane. Do you, can you love me? I must know that first. Then you shall have your way.”
Jane’s eyes did not falter. She looked at him, “You promised, you know–––!”