"Oh, yes--and your own answer to it, Joshua--my
love"--the "my love" in a much lower, softer tone, with suggestion
of sudden tears trembling to fall.
"But I meant it," he said, though in tones little like any he was
used to hearing from his own lips. But he would not dare look
himself in the face again if he did not make at least a wriggle
before surrendering.
"We mean many things in as many moods," said she. "I knew it was
only a mood. I knew you'd come. I've such a sense of implicit
reliance on you. You are to me like the burr that shields the nut
from all harm. How secure and cozy and happy the nut must feel in
its burr. As I've walked through the woods in the autumn I've
often thought of that, and how, if I ever married--"
A wild impulse to seize her and crush her, as one crushes the ripe
berry for its perfume and taste, flared in his eyes. She drew away
to check it. "Not now," she murmured, and her quick breath and
flush were not art, but nature. "Not just now--Joshua."
"You make me--insane," he muttered between his teeth. "God!--I DO
love you!"
They were arrived; were descending. And she led him, abject and in
chains, into the presence of Mrs.
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