She was dear to him.

He asked her to marry him.
It seemed enough, more than enough, to make joy a permanent thing in her life.

She had not imagined it possible to marry a man who did not woo and urge, who did not make her feel the ardour of his love.

But, now, breathlessly, she found that reality was quite different from her imagination and yet so blissful that she could feel nothing wanting in it.

And she could say nothing.