Jon got up and put his back against the door. "I expect you're right," he said slowly; "but I want to think it over."
She could see that he was seething with feelings he wanted to express; but she did not mean to help him. She hated herself at this moment, and almost hated him.
Why had she to do all the work to secure their love? It wasn't fair. And then she saw his eyes, adoring and distressed.
"Don't look like that! I only don't want to lose you, Jon."
"You can't lose me so long as you want me."
"Oh, yes, I can."
Jon put his hands on her shoulders.
"Fleur, do you know anything you haven't told me?"
It was the point-blank question she had dreaded. She looked straight at him, and answered: "No." She had burnt her boats; but what did it matter, if she got him? He would forgive her. And throwing her arms round his neck, she kissed him on the lips. She was winning! She felt it in the beating of his heart against her, in the closing of his eyes. "I want to make sure! I want to make sure!" she whispered. "Promise!"
Jon did not answer. His face had the stillness of extreme trouble. At last he said: