"I wish you would take off your hat," he said.

Priscilla obeyed.

"Thank you! Will you let me--love you?"

He noticed a tremor run the length of her body.

"Is--that in my giving?" Priscilla meant to play just a little longer,
only a little, and then she must make him see that because this sudden
and great thing had come to them both, they must prove themselves worthy
of it by unselfish recognition of deep truths.

"No. But I would like to have you say--yes! I meant all I said last
evening; you said nothing. I mean to have you, because I love you;
because I know you love me, and because nothing else matters. It's only
fair to warn you. You _do_ love me?"

"Is it love--when everything else is swept aside?"

"Yes."

"All but the longing--for the best?"

"Yes. That is love."

"Then, I love you."

"On ahead there is a tiny bluff, do not speak again until we reach it. A
strange and wonderful thing came to me there once--years ago. I want to