“You wanted me at last, Joan,” he said. “You called me, darling, and I have come.”
“I want you. I always want you. Never, never leave me again, Hugh—never leave me again. I love you so, and need you so.”
And then his arms were about her and hers about his neck, and she who had been so cold, so proud, so scornful, was remembering Johnny Everard’s words, “Life without love would be impossible.”
And now life was very, very possible to her.
THE END