He waited for a moment or two; then, "Stella," he said, "are you afraid
of me?"

She shook her head. Her lips had begun to tremble inexplicably.
"No--no," she said.

"What then?" He spoke with a gentleness that she had never heard from
him before. "Of yourself?"

She turned her face away from him. "I am afraid--of life," she told him
brokenly. "It is like a great Wheel--a vast machinery. I have been
caught in it once--caught and crushed. Oh can't you understand?"

"Yes," he said.

Again for a space he was silent, his hand yet holding hers. There was
subtle comfort in his grasp. It held protection.

"And so you want to run away from it?" he said at length. "Do you think
that's going to help you?"

She choked back a sob. "I don't know. I have no judgment. I don't trust
myself."

"You believe in sincerity?" he said. "In being true to yourself?" Then,
as she winced, "No, I don't want to go over old ground. We are talking
of present things. I'm not going to pester you, not going to ask you to
marry me even--" again she was aware of his smile though his speech
sounded grim--"until you have honestly answered the question that you