"Don't know what?" she repeated.
The mystery of his man's nature, with its mingled strength and weakness, was something she could not resist.
"Does it ever do any good to pray, I wonder?" he gasped.
"I wonder, too!" she echoed breathlessly.
He laughed.
"What rot I'm talking!" he said.
"What is it that is wrong, Marsh?"
"Nothing—nothing—I can't tell you—"
"You can tell me anything, I would always understand—always, dear. Prove to me that our love is everything; take me back into your confidence!"
"No," he gasped hoarsely. "I can't tell you—you'd hate me if I did; you'd never forget—you couldn't!"