“I should fight all the better for knowing it was a wife I was leaving behind instead of a sweetheart, Judithe; marry me tomorrow!”
She made a little gesture of protest, but he clasped her hand in his and held it close to prevent her from repeating it. “Why not?” he continued. “No one need know unless you wish; it can be kept secret as the engagement would be. Then, wherever the fortunes of war may send me, I can carry with me the certainty of your love. Speak to me, Judithe! Say yes. I have waited three years; I want my wife!”
“Your wife! Your––oh!”––and she flung out her hands as 325 though putting the thought away from her. A tear fell on his hand––she was weeping.
“Judithe, sweetheart!” he murmured, remorsefully.
“Tomorrow––not tonight,” she half whispered. “I must think, so much is to be considered.”
“No! Only one thing is to be considered;” he held her hands and looked in her face, with eyes ardent, compelling; “Only one thing, Judithe, and that is, do you love me––now?”
“Now, and from the first day we ever met,” she answered, looking up at him; her eyes were like stars glimmering through the mist of late tears. There came to them both the remembrance of that other avowal, behind those plunging horses in the Paris boulevard. They had unconsciously repeated the words uttered then.
For an instant his arms were about her––such strong, masterful, compelling arms. A wild temptation came to her to remain in that shelter––to let all the world go by with its creeds, its plots, its wars of right and wrong––to live for love, love only, love with him.
“My queen!” he whispered, as her head bent in half avoidance of his caresses even while her hand clasped his closely, convulsively, “it has all been of no use; those three years when you kept me away. It is fate that we find each other again. I shall never let you go from me––never! Do you hear me, Judithe? You are so silent; but words matter little since you belong to me. Do you realize it?––that you must belong to me always!”
The words over which he lingered, words holding all of hope and happiness to him brought to her a swift revulsion of feeling. She remembered those other human creatures who belonged to him––she remembered––