"I cannot." Miller was white with the intensity of his emotion. "I love you, love you."
Kathleen's hand crept to her heart as if to still its wild throb.
"Don't, don't"—she looked beseechingly at him. "Have you forgotten…"
"Yes," boldly. "I only realize you are all in all to me."
In the dead silence that followed the ticking of the small desk clock was distinctly audible.
"Why not leave well enough alone?" she begged, a trifle wildly.
"Because I cannot stand it," huskily. "To see you day after day—Will nothing I say convince or move you? Am I outside the pale of affection?"
No answer. In the prolonged silence Miller's self-control snapped, and stepping to her side he drew her in his arms. For a second she struggled to release herself, then her strength gave way and she leaned limply against him.
"I am a fool, a fool to listen to you," she gasped, "but I—I—love you now as I never did before."
With a low cry of unutterable happiness Miller bent his head and their lips met in a passionate kiss.