Miss G., kneeling promptly.—"So?"
Mr. R.—"Yes, and now"—kneeling beside her—"if you'll allow me to—to get at the window catch,"—he stretches both arms forward; she shrinks from his right into his left, and then back again,—"and pull, while I raise the window"—
Miss G.—"Yes, yes; but do hurry, please. If any one saw us, I don't know what they would think. It's perfectly ridiculous!"—pulling. "It's caught in the corner of the window, between the frame and the sash, and it won't come! Is my hair troubling you? Is it in your eyes?"
Mr. R.—"It's in my eyes, but it isn't troubling me. Am I inconveniencing you?"
Miss G.—"Oh, not at all."
Mr. R.—"Well, now then, pull hard!" He lifts the window with a great effort; the polonaise comes free with a start, and she strikes violently against him. In supporting the shock he cannot forbear catching her for an instant to his heart. She frees herself, and starts indignantly to her feet.
Miss G.—"Oh, what a cowardly—subterfuge!"
Mr. R.—"Cowardly? You've no idea how much courage it took." Miss Galbraith puts her handkerchief to her face and sobs. "Oh, don't cry! Bless my heart—I'm sorry I did it! But you know how dearly I love you, Lucy, though I do think you've been cruelly unjust. I told you I never should love anyone else, and I never shall. I couldn't help it, upon my soul I couldn't. Nobody could. Don't let it vex you, my"—He approaches her.
Miss G.—"Please not touch me, sir! You have no longer any right whatever to do so."