It was surrender, she thought, the breaking down of that quiet, steady reserve in him which had filled her with resentment.
She caught his free hand and held it tightly, while she turned her head so that she could look into his eyes.
"Lawler," she said then, in a low voice; "I lied to you." "Lied ?" He stiffened, dropped his hand from her head and looked straight at her.
She laughed, lightly.

"Yes; I lied, Lawler.

The day we met in Willets--you remember?
Well, I loved you from that moment, Lawler.

You looked so big and fine and strong.

I just couldn't help it.