I have come to ask you to do me the great honour of becoming my wife." Maggie sat for a few moments speechless.

The thing which she had half dreaded and half longed for--the low timbre of his caressing voice--was entirely absent.

Yet, somehow or other, his simple, formal words were at least as disturbing.

He leaned towards her, a quiet, dignified figure, anxious yet in a sense confident.

He had the air of a man who has offered to share a kingdom.
"Your wife," Maggie repeated tremulously.
"The thought is new to you, perhaps," he went on, with gentle tolerance.
"You have believed the stories people tell that in my youth I was vowed to celibacy and the priesthood.