But be fair to me; don't take me until I am as clean and straight and untainted as the girl I was--as I am becoming--as I will be--surely, surely--my darling!" She caught his hands in hers and, close to him, looked into his eyes smilingly, tearfully, and a little proudly.

The sensitive under-lip quivered; but she held her head high.
"Don't ask me to give you what is less perfect than I can make it.

Don't let me remember my gift and be ashamed, dear.

There must be no memory of your mistaken generosity to trouble me in the years to come--the long, splendid years with you.

Let me always remember that I gave you myself as I really can be; let me always know that neither your love nor compassion were needed to overlook any flaw in what I give." She bent her proud little head and laid her lips on his hands, which she held close between her own.
"You can so easily carry me by storm, Duane; and in your arms I might be weak enough to waver and forget and promise to give you now what there is of me if you demanded it.