"Great enough, rich enough, not to make a woman ashamed. You must wait for that time with me."
Mary Faversham said quietly, "You have been shutting yourself up with a lot of fanatical ideas."
He covered her lips gently with his hands. His face became grave.
"Oh," he said, "don't speak—wait. You don't dream what every word you say is going to mean—wait. You don't understand what I mean!"
And he began to tell her the gigantic sacrifice he was about to impose upon her. If he had been assured of his love for her, assured of her love for him, he might have made a magnetic appeal, but he seemed to be talking to her through a veil. He shook his head.
"No, I cannot ask it, Mary."
Mary Faversham's face had undergone a change.
It was never lovelier than now, as with gravity and sweetness she put her arms around his neck and looked up at him with great tenderness. She said—
"I think I know what you mean. You want me to give up my fortune and go to you."
She seemed to radiate before Fairfax's eyes, and his worship of her at this moment increased a thousandfold. He leaned forward and laid his head against her breast.