“I thought you never took an oath,” he says harshly.
“I do not like to swear, but I will now, now that all I hold most precious on earth is in the balance!” she sobs through her tears.
“Swear then! Say ‘I love you and you only, so help me God!’ ”
“I love you, Delaval, and only you, so help me God!” she says solemnly. “Oh! you believe me now, don’t you?”
He looks at her. As has been said before in the olden days Phryne’s face and form moved her judges to mercy—so this fair face and form move him to belief.
It is not possible that deceit can lurk behind her candid brow, her limpid eyes!
“Come to me, little one!”
In a moment she is in his arms, her white face pillowed on his breast, her lips smiling. “Ah! you believe me, Delaval, or you would not take me in your arms! you know I love you—darling—my own, own darling!—love you with all my heart. I never, never think of any one else.”
“Not even of—Conway?”
But she does not shrink or blush at the name.