Anne was still looking at him. Then slowly she released herself from his arms and arose to her feet. She was blushing.
"Haven't you anything to say to me—Jack?"
And now Jack blushed.
"Anything to say?" But he smiled guiltily.
"Really!" she exclaimed, frowning.
Jack came very close to her, his hands at his side, but looking straight into her eyes.
"Yes, I have something to say. I have n't any right to, but I 'm going to, just the same. Anne Wellington, I love you! I honor you! Since that night at the Grand Central Station—hang it, Anne, I can't make a speech, much as I should like to. I love you, that's all, and—and—and—" He stopped short.
She laughed that quick, fluttering laugh of happiness, much more eloquent than words. "Jack," she said, "that night I stood with you on the bridge of the D'Estang—then I knew I loved you."
The next instant she was crushed in his arms.
"Oh—Jack!"