He said more to the same effect, urging, begging, praying her to trust him to marry her, when he could see his way clearly.
Perhaps because the mind, when confronted with danger, fights for existence as lustily as does the body, Mavis, against her convictions, strove with some success to believe the honeyed assurances which dropped so glibly from her lover's tongue. His eloquence bore down her already enfeebled resolution.
"Go on; go on; go on!" she cried. "It's all lies, no doubt; but it's sweet to listen to all the same."
He looked at her in surprise.
"Your love-words, I mean. They're all I've got to live for now. What you can't find heart to say, invent. You've no idea what good it does me."
"Mavis!" he cried reproachfully.
"It seems to give me life," she declared, to add after a few moments of silence: "Situated as I am, they're like drops of water to a man dying of thirst."
"But you're not going to die: you're going to live and be happy with me!"
She looked at him questioningly, putting her soul into her eyes.
"But you must trust me," he continued.