"You see how little you have known me," she said softly. "Poor old fellow, I'm sorry. Too bad it had to end like this." Her eyes were now swimming in tears which she did not try to conceal. "Don't you see, dear, that is why I kept putting off telling you things about my affairs, and why I had tried to keep it—friendship, because I knew when we came as far as this we would have to stop."
"It will never stop," he said tensely, "never."
Response seemed to sweep through her suddenly, bewildering her by its unexpected strength.
"Perhaps not," she assented slowly, "if—if we—dare."
"Georgia," he pleaded, "you know that I——"
"Yes," in a whisper, "I know."
"And do you care, too?"
She looked up, and her answer was plain for him to read.
"More than you will ever know, Mason," she said.
"Georgia, are you a devout Catholic? Does it mean all of life to you here and hereafter?"