"Will you love me, Sybilla?"
She struggled silently, desperately.
"Will you?" "No.... Let me go----"
"Don't cry--please, dear--" His head, bowed beside hers over their clasped hands, was more than she could endure; but her upflung face, seeking escape, encountered his. There was a deep, indrawn breath, a sob, and she lay, crying her heart out, in his arms.
"Darling!"
"W-what?"
It is curious how quickly one recognizes unfamiliar forms of address.
"You won't cry any more, will you?" he whispered.
"N-n-o," sighed Sybilla.