Loves you, little girl of the dark eyes—”
“He doesn’t!” Dora shuddered. “If he could,
He’d have it that I never lived on earth.
He hates it, having to remember me.
And that’s all right. I want it so. But Bruce—”
“Will be, my dear, the father of your—listen,
Listen! You start away.”
For both had broken
Breath, as if with running, and only the hands
Of the grey-eyed, the firm one, held them there.