But we have, each of us, our own heritage, our own secret depravity." She hesitated, reddening, caught his eye, stammered her sentence to a finish and flinched, crimsoning to the roots of her hair.
He stood up, paced the room for a few moments, came and stood beside her.
"Once," he said very low, "you admitted that you dare go anywhere with me.

Do you remember ?" "Yes." "Those are your rooms, I believe," pointing to a closed door far down the south corridor.
"Yes." "Take me there now." "I--cannot do that----" "Yes, you can.

You must." "Now ?--Duane." "Yes, now--_now_! I tell you our time is now if it ever is to be at all.
Don't waste words." "What do you want to say to me that cannot be said here ?" she asked in consternation.
He made no answer, but she found herself on her feet and moving slowly along beside him, his hand just touching her arm as guide.
"What is it, Duane ?" she asked fearfully, as she laid her hand on the knob and turned to look at his altered face.
He made no answer.

She hesitated, shivered, opened the door, hesitated again, slowly crossed the threshold, turned and admitted him.
The western sun flooded the silent chamber of rose and gray; a breeze moved the curtains, noiselessly; the scent of flowers freshened the silence.
There was a divan piled with silken cushions; he placed several for her; she stood irresolute for a moment, then, with a swift, unquiet side glance at him, seated herself.
"What is it ?" she asked, looking up, her face beginning to reflect the grave concern in his.
"I want you to marry me, Geraldine." "Is--is _that_ what----" "Partly.

I want you to love me, too.