“Do you – mean that?”
“Now I am explaining what I feel,” he answered with a little smile.
He took her hand in his again, holding it in both of his.
“We have to be sensible, ma petite,” he said. “I know nothing about you, except that you are utterly adorable, and you know nothing about me except that I love you!”
Vada’s eyes seemed to hold all the sunshine in the garden and her fingers tightened on his.
“Do you – really love – me?”
“I tried to tell myself it’s an illusion,” he answered, “but I failed.”
“And I love you!” she said. “I love you – so much that it has been an agony I have never before known to think – that I might never see you again.”
“Oh, sweet darling!”
Pierre’s voice was unsteady.
Then, turning her hand upwards, he kissed the palm, his lips lingering on the softnes
