Will you?"
"Yes," he said soothingly. And yet a curious little throb of pain
flickered in his heart for a moment, that, mad as she undoubtedly was,
she should be so happy to be rid of him forever.
He came slowly across the room to the table on which she was sitting. She
drew back instinctively, but an ominous ripping held her.
"Are you going for a license and a--a clergyman?" she asked.
"Oh, no," he said gently, "that is not necessary. All we have to do is to
take each other's hands--so----"
She shrank back.
"You will have to let me take your hand," he explained.
She hesitated, looked at him fearfully, then, crimson, laid her slim
fingers in his.
The contact sent a quiver straight through him; he squared his shoulders
and looked at her.... Very, very far away it seemed as though he heard
his heart awaking heavily.
What an uncanny situation! Strange--strange--his standing here to humor
the mad whim of this stricken maid--this wonderfully sweet young
stranger, looking out of eyes so lovely that he almost believed the dead
intelligence behind them was quickening into life again.
"What must we do to be married?" she whispered.
"Say so; that is all," he answered gently. "Do you take me for your
husband?"
"Yes.... Do you t-take me for your--wife?"
"Yes, dear----"
"Don't say _that_!... Is it--over?"
"All over," he said, forcing a gayety that rang hollow in the pathos of
the mockery and farce.
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