Fletcher Hill spoke with a grim assurance. He was holding her before him,
one hand on her shoulder, the other grasping hers. Abruptly he bent
towards her.

"Come!" he said. "It's going to be 'Yes,' isn't it?"

She looked up at him with troubled eyes. Suddenly she shivered as
if an icy blast had caught her. "Oh, I'm frightened!" she said. "I'm
frightened!"

"Nonsense!" said Hill.

He drew her gently to him and held her. She was shaking from head to
foot. She began to sob, hopelessly, like a lost child.

"Don't!" he said. "Don't! It's all right. I'll take care of you. I'll
make you happy. I swear to God I'll make you happy!"

It was forcibly spoken, and it showed her more of the man's inner nature
than she had ever seen before. Almost in spite of herself she was
touched. She leaned against him, fighting her weakness.

"It isn't--fair to you," she murmured at last.

"That's my affair," said Hill.

She kept her face hidden from him, and he did not seek to raise it; but
there was undoubted possession in the holding of his arms.

After a moment or two she spoke again. "What will you do if--if you find