I--" "Please--please don't, Miss Sampson," interrupted poor Steele.

I could see the gray beneath his bronze and something that was like gold deep in his eyes.
"But, sir, my conscience flays me," she went on.

There was no other sound like her voice.

If I was all distraught with emotion, what must Steele have been?
"I make amends.

Will you take my hand?
Will you forgive me ?" She gave it royally, while the other was there pressing at her breast.
Steele took the proffered hand and held it, and did not release it.