Waring, we two saw into one another's hearts so deep in
the tunnel that day we spent together, that it would be foolish for
us now to make false barriers between us. I'll tell you the plain
truth." She trembled like an aspen-leaf. "I love you, I think; but
I can never marry you."
She said it so simply, yet with such an earnestness of despair,
that Cyril knew with a pang she really meant it.
"Why not?" he cried eagerly, raising her hand to his lips, and
kissing it with fervour. "If you tell me you love me, Elma, all the
rest must come. Say that, and you say all. So long as I've gained
your heart, I don't care for anything."
Elma drew her hand away with stately reserve. "I mean it, Mr.
Waring," she said slowly, sitting down on the bank, and gasping a
little for air, just as she had done in the tunnel. "I really mean
it. I LIKED you in the train that day; I was GRATEFUL to you in the
accident; I knew I LOVED you the afternoon we met at the Holkers'.
There, I've told you that plainly--more plainly than I thought I ever
could tell it to any man on earth--because we knew one another so
well when we thought we were dying side by side, and because--because
I can see you really love me.
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