Her eyes closed and she was surrendering herself to the kiss, when
suddenly she drew her head back, and, keeping him from her, looked up
at him. "Is it with all your heart?" she whispered. "You have never
spoken to me of--love before. Is it with all your heart?"
His brow contracted in a frown, he set his teeth hard. If he were to
lie, 'twere better that he lied thoroughly and well; better that his
sacrifice should be complete and effectual. Scarcely knowing what he
said, what he did, with the fumes of the champagne confusing his brain,
the misery of his lost love racking his heart, he said, hoarsely:
"I did not know--till to-night. You can trust me. I ask you to be my
wife--I will be true to you--it is with all my heart!"
If Jove laughs at lovers' perjuries, the angels must weep at such false
oaths as this. Even as he spoke the words, Stafford remembered the "I
love you?" he had cried to Ida as he knelt at her feet, and he
shuddered as Maude drew his head down and his lips met hers.
* * * * *
Half an hour later they went slowly up the steps again. Stafford's head
was still burning, he still felt confused, like a man moving in a
dream.
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