Meanwhile I'm going to be sure of you." "W-when ?" "This afternoon." His excitement thrilled her; a vivid colour surged over neck and brow.
"Duane, I did not dream that you cared so much, so truly--Oh, I--I do love you then!--I love you, Duane! I love you!" He drew her suddenly into his arms, close, closer; she lifted her face; he kissed her; and she gave him her heart with a sob.
"You will wait for m-me, won't you ?" she stammered, striving to keep her reason through the delicious tumult that swept her senses.

"Before I m-marry you I must be quite certain that you take no risk----" She looked up into his steady eyes; a passion of tenderness overwhelmed her, and her locked arms tightened around his neck.
"Oh," she whispered, "you _are_ the boy I loved so long, so long ago--my comrade Duane--my own little boy! How was I to know I loved you this way, too?
How could I understand!" Already the glamour of the past was transfiguring the man for her, changing him back into the lad she had ruled so long ago, glorifying him--drawing them together into that golden age where her ears already caught the far cries and laughter of the past.
Now, her arms around him, she looked at him and looked at him as though she had not set eyes on him since then.
"Of course, I love you," she said impatiently, as though surprised and hurt that he or she had ever doubted it.

"You always were mine; you are _mine_! Nobody else could ever have had you--no matter what you did--or what I did....

And nobody except you could ever, ever have had me.

That is perfectly plain now....