"And now," she questioned, "why do you tramp to and fro sleepless all night? Why do you gallop away at sight of me? Why are your poor cheeks so pale and your eyes so heavy with pain? Why do you sit and stare mumchance? Why? Why? Why?"
Now looking down into these bright eyes that met his so unflinchingly, hearkening to her soft and tender voice, his own eyes blenched and putting up his hands he covered his face that he might not see all the beauty of her and when he spoke his voice was hoarse and broken.
"My lady—why are you here—after last night? Dear God!"
"Because you need me, John, to comfort you, 'twould seem. If indeed you are bewitched by cruel fancies I am here to drive them away."
"Would to God you might," he groaned, "or that I had died before last night!"
"John," said she gently, "John—look at me! Do I seem changed, less worthy your love?"
"No, no, and yet—God help me—I saw, I heard!"
"What did you hear?"
"Your words of love—last night—in the arbour—your kisses."
At this, she started but her glance never wavered.