"That is all," she said under her breath.
"Nothing more, Karen?"
"Only that—after you had gone away this afternoon I began to be a little in love."
"Will it grow?"
"I think so."
"May I tell you that I love you?"
"Yes, please."
His clasped hands tightened on his knees; he said in a low unsteady voice: "All my heart is yours, Karen—all there is in me of love and loyalty, honour and devotion, is yours. Into my mind there is no thought that comes which is not devoted to you or influenced by my adoration of you. I love you—every word you utter, every breath you draw, every thought you think I love. The most wonderful thing in the world would be that you should love me; the greatest miracle that you might marry me. Dare I hope for you, Karen?"
"Yes—please."
"That you will grow to really love me?"