"Perhaps you will, too," she told him with trembling lips.
Chris laughed scornfully.
"I! I've never been a woman's man, you know that."
She did know it, and was glad to know it. It was the one small ray of hope in her darkness that if he did not love her at least he had never loved anybody else.
She gave a long sigh of weariness.
"You're tired," said Chris, quickly. "I'll go. Don't sit by the window any more. It's getting cold, and you've got to be careful, you know."
"Very well," she said, as she rose obediently, and he drew the window down. They looked at one another silently, then Chris said:
"Good-night, Marie Celeste."
"Good-night." Her voice was almost inaudible, and, moved by some impulse he could not explain, Chris laid his hands on her shoulders.
"Kiss me—will you?"