“Oh, Jimmy, I wish I could! You’ve been such an absolute dear. Give me a little longer, old man, and then—perhaps——”
“My dear,” said the man hoarsely, “I don’t want to hurry you. I’m willing to wait years for you—years. At least”—he smiled whimsically—“I’m not a little bit willing to wait years—really. But if it’s that or nothing—then, believe me, I’m more than willing.”
“I’ve argued it out with myself, Jimmy.” And now she was staring at the signet ring on her finger. “And when I’ve finished the argument, I know that I’m not a bit further on. You can’t argue over things like that. I’ve told myself times out of number that it isn’t fair to you——”
He started to speak, but she stopped him with a smile.
“No, dear man, it is not fair to you—whatever you like to say. It isn’t fair to you even though you may agree to go on waiting. No one has a right to ask another person to wait indefinitely, though I’m thinking that is exactly what I’ve been doing. Which is rather like a woman,” and once again she smiled half sadly.
“But I’m willing to wait, dear,” he repeated gently. “And then I’m willing to take just as much as you care to give. I won’t worry you, Molly; I won’t ask you for anything you don’t feel like granting me. You see, I know now that Peter must always come first. I had hoped that you’d forget him; I still hope, dear, that in time you will——”
She shook her head, and the man bit his lip.
“Well, even if you don’t, Molly,” he went on steadily, “is it fair to yourself to go on when you know it’s hopeless? There can be no doubt now that he’s dead; you know it yourself—you’ve taken off your engagement ring—and is it fair to—you? Don’t worry about me for the moment—but what is the use? Isn’t it better to face facts?”
The girl gave a little laugh that was half a sob.
“Of course it is, Jimmy. Much better. I always tell myself that in my arguments.” Then she looked at him steadily across the table. “You’d be content, Jimmy—would you?—with friendship at first.”