"I mean just because it is with me. Do you know what we are going to do? We travel to the sea, to a ship, then to my home in Virginia. Are you sure you do not fear the journey which means having me always with you?"
"Richard," she whispered, "you have never yet asked me to take that journey. Won't you ask me now?"
"Jeanne, my darling, my wife to be, will you come?"
"If God wills, dearest—oh, so willingly, if God wills."
She remembered how far the sea was, how terribly near to Paris they yet were. Disaster might be lying in wait for them along the road.
"He will keep us to the end, dear," Barrington whispered.
Presently she drew back from him. "How hateful I must look!" she exclaimed. "Do I seem fit to be the wife of any man, let alone your wife?"
"Shall I tell you what is in my mind?" he said.
"Yes, tell me, even if it hurts me."
"I am longing to see you again as I first saw you at Beauvais. I did not know who you were, remember, but I loved you then."