But at this she took fright anew. "You mustn't think of it! You mustn't! I can't marry you now, Billy."
"Now? All right, some other time."
He stooped over as though to pick up something from the floor. Apparently he overbalanced himself, for he fell forward on his hands and knees. When he picked himself up he was within arm's length of Hazel. He reached out two triumphant arms and swept her against him. A bare instant she struggled desperately. Then with a sigh she relaxed and put up her mouth to be kissed.
"There, there," he said later, his lips pressed against her hair, "I knew it would be all right once you let yourself go."
She lifted her body slightly in his arms. "Tell me you love me, dearest."
Then when he told her, she asked, "How much? More than anything else in the world? Are you sure?"
What ridiculous questions. Of course he was sure.
"Then you'll do anything I ask, won't you? Promise?"
She raised her head from his shoulder. "Promise?" she repeated, her warm lips on his.
Even as her arms tightened about his neck, he felt a tightening at his heart. And the latter was not a pleasant tightening. What did she mean? He loved her. God, how he loved her dark loveliness, but—what was she driving at?