"Yes, I know it. I am certain of it, darling. Everything will turn out as it should.... I can't bear to have the most beautiful moments of our lives made sad for you by apprehension. Won't you believe me that all will go well?"
"Yes."
"Then smile at me, Clive."
His under lip was still unsteady as he drew nearer and took her into his arms.
"God wouldn't do such harm," he said. "He couldn't! All must go well."
She smiled gaily and framed his head with her hands:
"You're just a boy, aren't you, C. Bailey, Junior?—just a big boy, yet. As though the God we understand—you and I—could deal otherwise than tenderly with us. He knows how rare love really is. He will not disturb it. The world needs it for seed."
The smile gradually faded from Clive's face; he shook his head, slightly:
"If I had known—if I had understood—"
"What, darling?"