He was strange to her still, in spite of the miracle that was
happening, and there were some thoughts which must be kept in the heart,
in silence. Perhaps if she had not kept back those words, much of the
future might have been different, for he must have guessed at once that,
if she were sincere, his thoughts of her had been false thoughts.
"Don't stop to think. Promise me now," he cut her short.
The note of insistence in his voice frightened her, and seemed to break
the music of the dream. "I can't promise!" she exclaimed. "I've never
wanted to marry. It never seemed possible. I----"
Something like a groan was forced from him. She broke off, drawing in
her breath sharply. "What is the matter?" she asked. "Are you
suffering?"
"Yes," he said. "I am suffering. It's my fault, for not making you
understand, and yours because you haven't let me believe in you, worship
you as the angel you were meant to be. I don't know what you are, but
whatever you are I love you with all there is of me. Only--what I asked
was--that you'd let me take you out of this life to something better.
Now don't misunderstand in another way! I'd rather die a thousand deaths
than wrong you. I ask nothing from you for myself. When I knew that you
were safe I'd go, and not even see you again, unless--but how can I
explain that I mean only good for you, with no evil or selfishness, yet
not marriage?"
"Not marriage!"
Mary wrenched her hands away, and stepped back from him.
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