"Going?" he asked quickly.
He remained seated holding her hand fast locked in his. She looked down
into his upraised face, conscious that her own was in shadow and that she
need not try to hide the tears that had risen inexplicably to her eyes.
"Yes, dear," she answered, with an effort at lightness. "You haven't had
a smoke since dinner. I am going to leave you to have one now."
But he still held her, as if he could not let her go.
She bent to him after a moment with that sweet impulsiveness of hers that
so greatly charmed all who loved her. "What is it, Piers? Don't you want
me to go?"
He caught her other hand in his and held them both against his lips.
"Want you to go!" he muttered almost inarticulately; and then suddenly he
raised his face again to hers. "Avery--Avery, promise me--swear to
me--that, whatever happens, you will never leave me!"
"But, my dearest, haven't I already sworn--only today?" she said,
surprised by his vehemence and his request. "Of course I shall never
leave you. My place is by your side."
"I know! I know!" he said. "But it isn't enough. I want you to promise me
personally, so that--I shall always feel--quite sure of you. You see,
Avery," his words came with difficulty, his upturned face seemed to
beseech her, "I'm not--the sort of impossible, chivalrous knight that
Jeanie thinks me.
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