“Ah, Betty darling!” he whispered, covering her face with kisses, “I have been dying for this—to come to you again!”
“And you came here!” she said, a little catch in her voice, “here, in this house,—oh, the danger of it! Spencer hates your very name, darling; how dared you come?”
He caressed her soft hair, smiling.
“How dared I, Betty?” he replied, “ah, my child, you do not know me. Are you glad to see me even here?”
“Am I glad?” she murmured, tears in her eyes. “Ah, Donough, the days have seemed like weeks—the weeks eternities!”
“I am not worthy of you,” he said, laying his cheek against her soft one, “I am not worthy of you; but above all else I love you—ay, better than my own soul!”
CHAPTER XXIV
MELISSA