And, after a moment, in tones he would have known meant opportunity had he been less in love with her, less modest about his own powers where she was concerned, she went on: "The night you told me you loved me I did not sleep.

What you said--what I saw when you opened your heart to me--oh, Dory, I believed then, and I believe now, that the reason I have not loved you is because I am not worthy of you.

And I'm afraid I never can--for just that reason." He laughed and kissed her hand.

"If _that's_ all that stands in the way," said he, "you'll love me to distraction." Her spirits went soaring as she realized that she had gained honorably all she had been tempted to gain by artifice.

"But you said a while ago," she reminded him mischievously, "that you didn't need me." "So I did," said he, "but the fox shouldn't be taken too literally as he talks about the grapes that are out of reach." Suddenly she was longing for him to take her in his arms and compel her to feel, and to yield to, his strength and his love.