"Couldn't he? Well, maybe he couldn't--but he's afraid you'll
marry me--and I'm only afraid you won't. Betty, hasn't it ever
seemed worth your while to marry me just to give old Tom the
scare of his life?"
"Please, Charley--" she began.
"I'm in a dreadful state of mind when I think of you alone at
Belle Plain--I wish you could love me, Betty!"
"I do love you. There is no one I care half so much for,
Charley."
Norton shook his bandaged head and heaved a prodigious sigh.
"That's merely saying you don't love any one." He dropped back
rather wearily on his pillow. "Does Tom know about this?" he
added.
"Yes."
"Was he able to show a proper amount of surprise?"
"He appeared really shocked, Charley."
"Well, then, it wasn't Tom. He never shows much emotion, but
what he does show he usually feels, I've noticed. I had rather
hoped it was Tom, I'd be glad to think that he was responsible;
for if it wasn't Tom, who was it?--who is it to whom it makes any
difference how often I see you?"
"I don't know, Charley;" but her voice was uncertain.
"Look here, Betty; for the hundredth time, won't you marry me?
I've loved you ever since I was old enough to know what love
meant. You've been awfully sweet and patient with me, and I've
tried to respect your wishes and not speak of this except when it
seemed necessary--" he paused, and they both laughed a little,
but he looked weak and helpless with his bloodless face showing
between the gaps in the bandages that swathed him.
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