And it is
all very natural and very just." Very slowly her head had dropped
until her chin rested hard above the little jewelled cross on her
breast.
"You must tell me if I am wrong. You don't love me now--well
enough to be happy with me here"--he waved one hand toward the
straggling little town below them and then toward the lonely
mountains--"I did not know that we would have to live here--but I
know it now--" he checked himself, and afterward she recalled the
tone of those last words, but then they had no especial
significance.
"Am I wrong?" he repeated, and then he said hurriedly, for her
face was so piteous--"No, you needn't give yourself the pain of
saying it in words. I want you to know that I understand that
there is nothing in the world I blame you for--nothing--nothing.
If there is any blame at all, it rests on me alone." She broke
toward him with a cry then.
"No--no, Jack," she said brokenly, and she caught his hand in both
her own and tried to raise it to her lips, but he held her back
and she put her face on his breast and sobbed heart-brokenly. He
waited for the paroxysm to pass, stroking her hair gently.
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