“You know I care,” she said softly.
The words fell from her lips inevitably; no other reply was possible, and it seemed that a great weight had lifted from her heart and that in entrusting herself to him she had found security and peace. She questioned nothing, feeling his arms about her, his kiss warm on her lips. All her doubts were lost in the joy of the moment in which he had confessed his love for her. It was a strange place for the pledging of love and the moment was not to be prolonged.
“We must go on, dear,” she said laying her cheek against his for an instant. The touch of her face caused him to clasp her again.
“Oh, my dearest one!” he cried hoarsely.
As they went on, loitering to delay the moment of parting, they caught hands like happy children.
“I don’t see how you can love me,” she said with the anxiety of new love for confirmations and assurances. “I don’t belong to your world.”
“There’s the strangest thing of all!” he exclaimed. “We are born into a new world that is all ours. We have inherited all the kingdoms tonight.”
“And the stars up there—do they shine just for us?” she asked, bringing herself closer to him. “And can we keep every one else out of our world? I want it all to be our very own. Oh, it’s so sweet, so wonderful!”
“It’s a miracle beyond any words,” he said, “to know that you care. It’s easy for me to love you; I loved you in that very first hour we spent together. We don’t account for things like that, that come so suddenly and without warning; we merely accept them. I’ve fought this; I want you to know that I’ve fought it.”
“Oh, so have I! But—why did you fight it?”