Heedless of past or future, Ann
yielded, surrendering with her lips the whole brave young heart of her.
Presently his clasp relaxed, and she drew a little away from him.
"Ann," he said unsteadily, "little dear Ann!"
She met his gaze with eyes like stars--clear and unafraid.
"You haven't said yon trusted me!" A note of tender amusement quivered in
her voice. "Do you, Eliot?"
For a moment his eyes seemed to burn out at her from under his heavily
drawn brows.
"Trust you?" he said hoarsely. "I don't know whether I trust you or not!...
But I know I want you!"
And once more he swept her up into his embrace.
"My beloved!"
His kisses rained down on her face--fierce, imperious kisses that seemed
to draw the very soul out of her body and seal it his, and when at last he
let her go she leaned against him, tremulously spent and shaken with the
rapture of answering passion which had kindled to life within her.
"Tell me you love me!" he insisted. "Let me hear you say it--to make it
real!"
And turning to give herself to him again, she hid her face against his
shoulder, whispering:
"Oh, you know--you know I do!"
* * * * *
Half an hour later found them still together, sitting by the big,
old-fashioned hearth which Eliot had plied with logs till the flames roared
up the chimney.
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