The dimness gave her time to consider how she should deal with this startling certainty, the music of which was dancing in her brain. The meaning of his devotion was now so clear. Yet she had never guessed either his purpose or the secret of her own disconcerting heart-beats.
"I knew you were fond of me, but it never occurred to me that you could think of me as a wife."
"Why not? You are beautiful and charming as well as sweet and wise, and I adore you."
"I liked to feel that we should go on being dear friends for the rest of our lives," she answered, tingling with the thrill which this avowal caused her.
From the tremor of her speech he was emboldened to regard the sigh which followed this simple voicing of the exact truth as an ellipsis hiding a precious secret.
"Then you love me, Constance?"
Whatever happened, why should he not know? Why should she deny herself that ecstasy?
"Oh, yes, Gordon, I love you dearly."
"And you will be my wife?"
"How can I, Gordon? You know I must not." There was gentle pleading in her tone and a tinge of renunciating sadness.