No apologies could condone for his behaviour. Love he dared not mention; not with a past like his; not to this innocent, high-principled girl.
Pansy came to his side.
"Stoop down a bit, Raoul," she said. "I want to say something."
He bent his dark head.
Into his ear "I love you" was whispered shyly, as it had been that night months ago in a moonlit garden in Grand Canary.
At her whispered words his face started working strangely.
"I don't deserve such love, such forgiveness," he said in a broken voice.
She laughed—the laughter that kept tears at bay—and slipping her arms about his neck, tip-toed, and kissed the lips that dared not touch her now.
"And I want to marry you at once. I want to be with you always."
At her words his arms went round her in their old possessive manner.