covered her face.

She stood for a second or two in tense silence, then under her breath
she spoke. "You don't believe--that--of me!"

"I do, then," asserted Rufus, in his deep voice a note that was almost
aggressive.

She lifted her face suddenly, even fiercely, showing him the shamed
blush that burned there. "You didn't believe it--that night!" she said.

His eyes met hers with a certain stubbornness. "All right. I didn't," he
said.

Her look became a challenge. "Then why--how--have you come to change
your mind?"

He faced her steadily. "Maybe I know you better than I knew you then,"
he said slowly.

She made a sharp gesture as if pierced by an intolerable pain. "And
that--that has made a difference to your--your intentions!"

He moved also at that. His red brows came together. "You're quite
wrong," he said, his voice very low. "That night--I know--I was beyond
myself, I was mad. But since then I've some to my senses. And--I love
you too much to harm you. That's the truth. I'd love you
anyway--whatever you were. It's just my nature to."

His hands clenched with the words; he spoke with strong effort; but his