I sobbed in my joy, hardly knowing what I said.
"Margery!" he said. "Is this all for me?"
"I cannot help it," I said. "I ought, but I cannot. No one knows but me. I heard it last night—"
"You are killing yourself sitting here in the cold," said John. "You are nearly frozen to death." He wrapped my cloak round me, and drew my arm through his.
"Who told you of the accident?" he said.
"Mrs. Beatty."
"She might have kept her own counsel till to-day. Several poor fellows have been killed, but many escaped, like myself, unhurt. And so you kept it from my mother, and you grieved for me. Margery, may I ask again that question I asked you the night before I went away? If it pains you, say nothing."
"You may ask it."
"And what will you answer?"
"Anything you like."