She hesitated, and her eyes seemed searching into his with faraway questioning.
“If I come to you, then,” she said carefully.
“If you ever come to me with such a demand,” he said slowly, “I shall do everything to give you back your freedom. That is a promise. I would have done so, anyhow.”
She nodded as though satisfied. Then with a dignity that held him breathless, she placed her hand on his and said as though to her the words constituted a ceremony,
“Mr. Dan, your life will be my life. I will have no other thought but you in my heart—and no other desire but to give you what is in me to give.”
“Then—you will marry me,” he said slowly.
“Whenever you wish.”
“This is final, Inga? You will not change?”
“You did not understand,” she said quietly. “Nothing a stranger can say can make me more yours than I am now.”
“And you love me?” he cried tempestuously. “Inga, that is what I want to hear you say. You love me so that you can’t think of anything else, so that you can’t keep from me, so that to be out of my sight is torture?”