.

.

if it--it is true you love me." The mounting sea of passion swept him; he turned on her, unsteadily, his hands clenched, not daring to touch her.

Shame, contrition, horror that the damage was already done, all were forgotten; only the deadly grim duty of the moment held him back.
"Dear," he said, "because I am unchanged--because I--I love you so--help me!--and God help us both." "Tell me," she said steadily, but it was fear that stilled her voice.
She laid one slim hand on the table, bearing down on the points of her fingers until the nails whitened, but her head was high and her eyes met his, straight, unwavering.
"I--I knew it," she said; "I understood there was something.

If it is trouble--and I see it is--bring it to me.