"Forgive me, darling! forgive me for being almost glad when I heard that you were free, and not married out of my reach.

I can't think of anything except that I've found you.

It is you, isn't it?
It is you.

I don't care what's happened to you, if it is only you." As he spoke in this vehement, fiery way, she had been regarding him with an expression of faint curiosity.

"I believe you do really mean it," she said, wonderingly, lingering over the words; "you always were a queer fellow." "Mean it!" he exclaimed, kneeling before her, his voice all tremulous with the hope which the slightly yielding intonation of her words had given him.