Through and through him shot the thrilling comprehension of that exquisite avowal, childlike in its silent directness, charming in its surprise. A wave of tenderness and awe mounted within him, touching his bronzed cheeks with a deeper colour.
"If you will, Chrysos," he said in a still voice.
She lifted her head and looked directly at him, and in her questioning gaze there was nothing of fear—merely the question.
"I can't bear to have you go," she said.
"I can't go—alone."
"Could you—care for me?"
"I love you, Chrysos."
Her eyes widened in wonder:
"You—you don't love me—do you?"
"Yes," he said, "I do. Will you marry me, Chrysos?"