anything else in life, that I would give the soul out of my body to make
you happy?"

His voice was sunk very low. There was more of restraint than emotion in
his utterance. He spoke as a man who knows himself to be upon holy
ground.

And Chris was awed. The very quietness of the man made her tremble. She
knew instinctively that here was something colossal, something that
dominated her, albeit half against her will.

She closed her fingers very tightly upon his hand, but she said nothing.

He sat silent for several seconds, closely watching her, seeking to read
her downcast eyes. But she would not raise them. Her heart was beating
very quickly, and her breath came and went like the breath of a
frightened bird.

At last very gently he moved, drew her to him, put his arm about her.
"Are you afraid of me, Chris?"

She nestled to him with a little gesture that was curiously pathetic.
With her face securely hidden against him, she whispered, "Yes."

"My darling, why?" he said very tenderly.

"I don't know why," murmured Chris.

"Surely not because I love you?" he said.