And I will tell you--about--the hair.

I will tell you--everything." Her fingers tightened almost fiercely.

"Everything," she repeated.

"I will tell you about that in Kedsty's room--and I will tell you about myself--and after that--I am afraid--you won't like me." "I love you," he said, making no movement to touch her.

"No matter what you tell me, Gray Goose, I shall love you." She gave a little cry, scarcely more than a broken note in her throat, and Kent--had her face been turned toward him then--would have seen the glory that came into it, and into her eyes, like a swift flash of light--and passed as swiftly away.
What he did see, when she turned her head, were eyes caught suddenly by something at the cabin door.