"No," she said, "I
don't mean that. I mean that I'm glad nothing happened to--to prevent my
marrying you. I mean--that I love you ten times more for telling me now."
He gathered her impulsively close in his arms, kissing her with lips that
trembled. "My own girl! My own generous wife! I'll make up to you," he
vowed. "I'll give you such love as you've never dreamed of. I've been a
brute to you often--often. But that's over. I'll make you happy now--if
it kills me!"
She laughed softly, with a quivering exultation, between his kisses.
"That wouldn't make me happy in the least. And I don't think you will
find it so hard as that either. You've begun already--quite nicely. Now
that we understand each other, we can never make really serious
mistakes again."
Thereafter, they sat and talked in the firelight for a long time,
closely, intimately, as friends united after a long separation. And in
that talk the last barrier between them crumbled away, and a bond that
was very sacred took its place.
In the end the striking of the clock above them awoke Vera to the
lateness of the hour. "My dear Edward, it's to-morrow morning already!
Wouldn't it be a good idea to go to bed?"
"Of course," he said.
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