Her daintiness in thought and person, and honesty of purpose, appealed to him, while that night her mere physical presence had an effect that was almost bewildering.

For a moment he wondered vaguely how far a man might dare to go, with what fate had thrust upon him, and then with a little shiver saw once more the barrier of deceit and imposture.
"You believe it was not a true one ?" he asked.
"Of course," said Maud Barrington.

"How could it be?
And you have been very patient under our suspicions.

Now, if you still value the good-will you once asked for, it is yours absolutely." "But you may still hear unpleasant stories about me," said Winston, with a note the girl had not heard before in his voice.
"I should not believe them," she said.
"Still," persisted Winston, "if the tales were true ?" Maud Barrington did nothing by halves.

"Then I should remember that there is always so much we do not know which would put a different color on any story, and I believe they could never be true again." Winston checked a little gasp of wonder and delight, and Maud Barrington looked away across the prairie.