“Here, I want to get it clear. There’s just one sort of break I feel like making.”
His tone was rough and contained nothing of his real feelings.
The girl inclined her head and her eyes came frankly to his face. She read the doubt there. She read a whole lot more.
“I only seem to remember one sort of break,” she said, with the dawn of a smile that was irresistible.
“Thank God!”
In a moment all doubt had passed out of the man’s eyes. He was smiling with all the transparent happiness of a schoolboy. He came over to the girl’s chair, and, reaching down, took possession of both her yielding hands. She stood up, tall and slight, and infinitely beautiful in her pretty afternoon frock.
“Now the right is doubly mine, little girl,” he said. “And, by God! there’s no one on this darn old earth going to rob me of it. Mine, eh? Mine at last!” And caught her up in his arms.