His heart leaped, but he did not touch her.
“Do you love me?” he asked.
She turned restlessly toward the house.
“My father will be wanting me,” she said. “I must go.”
“You shall not go until you have told me,” he said. “You must tell me. You never have, you know. Do you love me?”
“You have not told me, either,” she resisted. “You are not fair.”
He laughed under his breath, then bent his sunny head—close.
“Have you forgotten so soon?” he whispered.
Suddenly, he caught her to him, strongly, as was his way.
“I will tell you again,” he said, softly. “I love you, my girl, do you hear? There is no one but you in all the world.”