"I thought they would be," she said proudly.

All the while he was looking at the pale face and the thin
transparency of her hands.

"But you have suffered, too. You have been ill. Were you in--
danger?" His voice had a catch of fear in it as he asked the, to
him, terrible question.

"No. It was just a fever. It is past. I am a little weak--a little
tired. That will pass, too."

"If anything had happened to you--or ever should happen!" He buried
his face in his hands and moaned "Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"

His body shook with the sobs he tried vainly to check. Angela put
her hand gently on his shoulder.

"Don't do that," she whispered.

He controlled himself with an effort.

"It will be over in a moment. Just a moment. I am sorry."

He suddenly knelt at her feet, his head bowed in reverence. "God
help me," he cried faintly, "I love you! I love you!"

She looked down at him, her face transfigured.

He loved her!