"Beverly," cried an eager voice. She slackened her pace and glanced over
her shoulder. The smiling, triumphant face of Baldos met her gaze. The
upper hall was almost clear of people. She was strangely frightened,
distressingly diffident. Her door was not far away, and she would have
reached it in an instant later had he not laid a restraining, compelling
hand upon her arm. Then she turned to face him, her lips parted in
protest. "Don't look at me in that way," he cried imploringly. "Come,
dearest, come with me. We can be alone in the nook at the end of the
hall. Heavens, I am the happiest being in all the world. It has turned
out as I have prayed it should."
She allowed him to lead her to the darkened nook. In her soul she was
wondering why her tongue was so powerless. There were a hundred things
she wanted to say to him, but now that the moment had come she was
voiceless. She only could look helplessly at him. Joy seemed to be
paralyzed within her; it was as if she slept and could not be awakened.
As she sank upon the cushion he dropped to his knee before her, his hand
clasping hers with a fervor that thrilled her with life. As he spoke,
her pulses quickened and the blood began to race furiously.
"I have won your love, Beverly, by the fairest means. There has never
been an hour in which I have not been struggling for this glorious
end.
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