“Yes, he needs me,” she said. She rose and unconsciously a little light, a fierce maternal craving came into her face and touched her eyes, a light that hurt him. “I have waited until I was sure. He doesn’t know that I will come.”
“I only hope he is worth the giving,” said Dangerfield, abruptly. Of all the other emotions, jealousy, passion, gratitude, loyalty, only one remained, a feeling of great tenderness, of almost paternal solicitude.
“He has wonderful things in him, too,” she said, “that must be saved, that I’m going to fight for.”
Then a silence fell between them as they stood facing each other, knowing that all had been said between them, each suddenly shy and embarrassed.
“You have been very kind to me, Mr. Dan. There are things I can never forget.” She stopped, put out her hand to his and said, “and I am glad now that you had your way, that you made me marry you.”
“I can’t say anything,” he said. He took her in his arms gently, as though she had been a fragile flower, her head against his head while the tears from their eyes ran together on their cheeks, trembling against each other as those who have loved passionately, love again at the final parting.