But she refused her lips.
'Or are you doubtful of your own love ?' 'No.

If I understand what love means, I love you.' 'Then give me the kiss I am waiting for.

You have not kissed me yet.' 'I can't--until I am sure of myself--of my readiness--' Her broken words betrayed the passion with which she was struggling.
Everard felt her tremble against his side.
'Give me your hand,' he whispered.

'The left hand.' Before she could guess his purpose he had slipped a ring upon her finger, a marriage ring.

Rhoda started away from him, and at once drew off the perilous symbol.
'No--that proves to me I can't! What should we gain?
You see, you dare not be quite consistent.