"Yes--almost. Tell me, you--I know you are not like other men! _You_
never have had anything to do with a Destyn-Carr machine, have you?"
"Never!"
"Neither have I.... And so you are not in love--are you?"
"No."
"Neither am I. Oh, I am so glad that you and I have waited, and not
become engaged to somebody by machinery.... I wonder whom you are
destined for."
"Nobody--by machinery."
She clapped her hands. "Neither am I. It is too stupid, isn't it? I
_don't_ want to marry the man I ought to marry. I'd rather take chances
with a man who attracts me and who is attracted by me.... There was, in
the old days--before everybody married by machinery--something not
altogether unworthy in being a siren, wasn't there?... It's perfectly
delightful to think of your seeing me out here on the rocks, and then
instantly plunging into the waves and tearing a foaming right of way to
what might have been destruction!"
Her flushed, excited face between its clustering curls looked straight
into his.
"It _was_ destruction," he said. His own voice sounded odd to him. "Utter
destruction to my peace of mind," he said again.
"You--don't think that you love me, do you?" she asked. "That would be
too--too perfect a climax.... _Do_ you?" she asked curiously.
"I--think so."
"Do--do you _know_ it?" He gazed bravely at her: "Yes."
She flung up both arms joyously, then laughed aloud:
"Oh, the wonder of it! It is too perfect, too beautiful! You really love
me? Do you? Are you _sure_?"
"Yes.
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