“Will you marry me, please, Garth?”
He drew back from her, violently, his underlip hard bitten. At last, after a long silence—
“No!” he burst out harshly. “No! I can't!”
For an instant she was shaken. Then, buoyed up by the memory of that night when she had lain in his arms and when the agony of the moment had stripped him of all power to hide his love, she challenged his denial.
“Why not?” Her voice was vibrant. “You love me!”
“Yes . . . I love you.” The words seemed torn from him.
“Then why won't you marry me?”
It did not seem to her that she was doing anything unusual or unwomanly. The man she loved had carried his burden single-handed long enough. The time had come when for his own sake as well as for hers, she must wring the truth from him, make him break through the silence which had long been torturing them both. Whatever might be the outcome, whether pain or happiness, they must share it.
“Why won't you marry me, Garth?”
The little question, almost voiceless in its intensity, clamoured loudly at his heart.