"Let me go," she said, panting.
"You believe me?"
"Yes, I believe you."
"And you love me?"
"Yes."
He crushed her again, then reluctantly let her go and stood looking at her.
"I've seen the parson," he said. "He's a queer old fellow; said he must see your father about it—and you."
"That's quite right. We sort of belong to him; he's our guide. I go to church."
"I told him he'd have no difficulty with you, or your father, that you'd both consent," he said.
"But you didn't know we would!" she remonstrated.