Richard Forrest, Bachelor — page 259: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

250 A LIVING SAINT. we ought both to understand ourselves. I believe you still care for me; you are not the sort of woman to change, and you cannot doubt me, If we live to end this journey, let us begin all over again; let the past be a dead letter to us. For the last time, Rose, will you be my wife?”’ ‘‘How can I give you the answer you hope for now??’’ she pleaded, ina tone of anguish, ‘“‘I have no right even to listen to you. ‘‘A month ago, perhaps——’’ He took both her hands in his. ‘‘My girl, answer me with your heart, not your lips. Can you truthfully say your feelings are the same as they were a month ago? If so, I will say no more.’’ Her only reply was a burst of nervous, quivering sobs. Gently he gathered her, unresisting, to his breast, and neither spoke for some minutes. Suddenly she drew away from him with a startled expression. ‘‘See,’’ she said, pointing, ‘‘the light is going out. ‘““Why,’’ joyously, ‘‘we are stopping. Can we have ar- rived?”’ He was silent. The wind moaned and shrieked as though a thousand demons were mocking them. She crept close to his side again in the darkness. ‘‘Dick,’’ she whispered, with difficulty. ‘‘Is this the end? You may tell me, for I am no coward.”’ Still no response. | She shuddered slightly, and the blood throbbed in her temples. His silence answered her better than words, yet failed to satisfy her. She was, as she protested, not afraid to die, but she was young and healthy. Life, especially at this moment, seemed unutterably sweet to her. ‘You dare not confide the truth to me,’’ she went on,. CO NNIElOOO KS, EO) im