He stepped close to her and let his hand fall lightly on her arm.
"I've been blind all these years, Lee," he told her. "It's you I love."
She stole a little look at him with shy, incredulous eyes. "Have you forgotten—Polly?"
"I haven't been in love with her for years, but I didn't know it till about the Christmas holidays. She was a habit with me. There never was a sweeter girl than Polly Roubideau. I'll always think a heap of her. But—well, she had more sense than I had—knew all the time we weren't cut out for each other." He laughed a little, flushing with embarrassment. It is not the easiest thing in the world to explain to a girl why you have neglected her in favor of another.
Lee trembled. The desire was strong in her to seize her happiness while she could. Surely she had waited long enough for it. But some impulse of fair play to him or of justice to herself held back the tide of love she longed to release.
"I think … you are impulsive," she said at last. "If you have anything you want to tell me, better wait until …"
"Not another moment!" he cried. "I've been in torment all night. I … I thought I'd lost you forever. You don't care for me, of course. You never have liked me very well, but—"
"Haven't I?" she breathed softly, not looking at him.
Love irradiated and warmed her. She forgot all she had suffered during the years she had waited for him to know his mind. She forgot the privations of the past two days. Her eyes were tender with the mist of unshed tears.
"It's going to be the biggest thing in my life. If there's any chance at all I'll wait as long as you like. Of course, the idea's new to you because you haven't ever thought of me that way—"