Their eyes encountered, lingered; and the beauty of her gaze seemed to stir him to the very wellspring of compassion.
"Would it make you any happier to believe--to know," he added hastily, "that you and I were married?"
"Y-yes, I think so."
"Would you be quite happy to believe it?"
"Yes--if you call that happiness."
"And you would not be unhappy if I never returned?"
"Oh, no, no! I--that would make me--comparatively--happy!"
"To be married to me, and to know you would never again see me?"
"Yes. Will you?"
"Yes," he said soothingly. And yet a curious little throb of pain flickered in his heart for a moment, that, mad as she undoubtedly was, she should be so happy to be rid of him forever.