"Have you thought of what all this may mean, Tunis?" she asked.
"You bet I have. I haven't been thinking of much else—not since the first time I saw you."
"What? You felt—felt that you could like me that night when we sat on the bench so long on the Common?"
"My Godfrey, Ida May!" he exclaimed. "Since that time you slipped on the sidewalk in front of that restaurant and I caught you. That's when I first knew that you were the most wonderful girl in the world!"
"Oh, Tunis! Do you mean that?"
"I certainly do," he said stoutly.
"That—that you thought that? At very first sight?"
"I couldn't get you out of my mind. I went about in a sort of dream. Why, Ida May, when Cap'n Ira and Aunt Prue talked so much about wanting that other girl down here, all I could think of was you! I half believed it must be you that they sent me for—until I came face to face with that other girl."
Her face dimpled suddenly; her eyes shone. The look she gave him passed through Tunis Latham like an electric shock. He trembled. He would have drawn her closer.
"Not here, Tunis," she whispered. "But if you dare take me—knowing what and who I am—I am all yours. Whenever you feel that you can take me I shall be ready. Can I say more, Tunis?"