Part 84 (2/2)

”I'm afraid that's all there is to me,” he said. ”Lucas would have given you understanding, friends.h.i.+p, chivalry, all that a good woman wants. I can only offer you--bondage.”

He half turned with the words, standing as if it needed but a sign to dismiss him. But Anne made no sign. Over their heads a thrush had suddenly begun to pour out his soul to the June suns.h.i.+ne, and she stood spell-bound, listening.

At the end of several breathless moments she spoke and in her voice was a deep note that thrilled like music.

”There is a bondage,” she said, ”that is sweeter than any freedom. And, Nap, it is the one thing in this world that I want--that I need--that I pray for night and day.”

”Anne!” he said. He turned back to her. He took the hands she gave him.

”Anne,” he said again, speaking rapidly, in a voice that shook, ”I have tried to play a straight game with you. I have warned you. I am not the right sort. You know what I am. You know.”

”Yes,” Anne said, ”I know.” She raised her head and looked him straight in the eyes. ”You are all the world to me, Nap,” she said. ”You are the man I love.”

His arms caught her, crushed her fiercely to him, held her fast.

”Say it again!” he said, his fiery eyes flaming. ”Say it! Say it!”

But Anne said nought. Only for a long, long second she gazed into his face; then in utter silence she turned her lips to his.

They spent the whole of the long June day together in the garden. Neither knew how the time went till evening came upon them all unawares--a golden evening of many fragrances.

They came at last along the green path under the lilac trees, and here by the rustic seat Nap stopped.

”I'll leave you here,” he said.

She looked at him in surprise. ”Won't you dine with me?”

”No,” he said restlessly. ”I won't come in. I should stifle under a roof to-night.”

”But we will dine outside,” she said.

He shook his head. ”No, I'm going. Anne,” he caught her hand to his lips, ”I hate leaving you. How long must I be condemned to it?”

She touched his shoulder with her cheek. ”Don't you know that I hate it too?” she said.

”Then--” He put his arm round her.

”Next week, Nap,” she said.

”You mean it?”

”Yes. I mean it.”

”You will marry me next week. What day?”

”Any day,” she said, with her face against his shoulder.

”Any day, Anne? You mean that? You mean me to choose?”

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