“And are you sure,” Jack asks after a time, in the curious manner common to young lovers, “that you really love me now, May? that I shan’t wake up to find it all a mistake as it was last time. I’m very dense at taking it in, sweetheart; but it almost seems yet as though it was too good to be true.”
“Quite sure,” May says. She looks up into the face of the man beside whom all others to her are but “as shadows,” unalterable trust in her blue eyes. “Jack,” very low, “I think I have loved you all my life.”
“I said I would marry you, Jack,” Ruby remarks in rather an offended voice when she hears the news. “But I s’pose you thought I was too little.”
“That was just it, Ruby red,” Jack tells her, and stifles further remonstrance by a kiss.
THE END.
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