"Eve, dear, such a thought never came to me. Won't you believe that, please? I care nothing about Ed's money. If you like I'll never touch a cent of it. All I want on this earth is just you."
His arms went around her. She never stirred, save for the tremors that shook her as a breeze shakes a reed.
"Am I frightening you still?" he whispered. "I don't want to do that. I only want to make you happy, dear, and, oh, I'd try very hard if you'd let me. Won't you, Eve?"
There was no answer. He held her very-lightly there with arms that ached to strain her close against his fast-beating heart. After a moment she asked, tremulously:
"You tore up—the note?"
"Yes," he answered. He felt a sigh quiver through her.
"I'm glad," she whispered.
Of a sudden she struggled free, pushing him away with her outstretched arms.
"You must stand there," she said, in laughing whispers. She crossed her hands, palms out, above her forehead to keep the moonlight from her eyes. "Now, sir, answer me truthfully. You didn't—do that, what I said?"
"No."