“But some day—I’ll be—your wife,” she whispered.
“Soon? Soon?” he returned, trembling.
The scarlet fired her temples, her brow, darkening the skin under her bright hair.
“That’s for you to say.”
She held up her lips, tremulous and sweet.
Neale realized the moment had come. There had never been but the one kiss between them—that of the meeting upon his return in September.
“Allie, I love you!” He spoke thickly.
“And I love you,” she replied, with sweet courage.
“This news you’ve told—this man Durade,” he went on, hoarsely, “I’m suddenly alive—stinging—wild!... If I lost you!”
“Dear, you will never lose me—never in this world or any other,” she replied, tenderly.