They're
welcome to the thought. I haven't told you that I love you, eh? I
tell you now. It's my last trump, and right here I table it. I'm
no desert poet, but I love you from that dark crown of yours to
those little feet that tap the floor so impatient sometimes. I
love you all the time, no matter what mood you're in--when you
flash dark angry eyes at me and when you laugh in that slow,
understanding way nobody else in God's world has the trick of.
Makes no difference to me whether you're glad or mad, I want you
just the same. That's the reason why I'm going to make you love
me."
"You can't do it." Her voice was very low and not quite steady.
"Why not--I'll show you."
"But you can't--for a good reason."
"Put a name to it."
"Because. Oh, you big blind man--because I love you already." She
burlesqued his drawl with a little joyous laugh: "I reckon if
you're right set on it I'll have to marry you, Val Collins."
His arm tightened about her as if he would hold her against the
whole world. His ardent eyes possessed hers. She felt herself
grow faint with a poignant delight. Her lips met his slowly in
their first kiss.
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