The Splendid Outcast. Gibbs George
repetition of the word seemed like a confirmation of his resolution and shocked him into action. Quietly he took her hands down from his shoulders, kissed them in farewell, and turned away.
"What do you mean?" she repeated.
"That – that to-morrow – you shall judge me."
The tense expression of her anxiety relaxed and she smiled.
"You needn't fear what that will be."
He did not reply but stood staring fixedly into the fire. She came around to him and laid her fingers over his. "Why should we bother about to-morrow, dear? To-day was yesterday's to-morrow and see what's happened to us."
"But it shouldn't have happened," he groaned, "it shouldn't have happened."
"Then why should I thank God for it – ?"
"Don't – "
"Yes. Everything will be right. A woman knows of these things."
He smiled at her tenderly, but he didn't attempt to take her in his arms.
"Come," she said, "let us sit down by the fire near the blaze, and we will not speak of to-morrow – just of to-day and yesterday and the day before, when you and I were learning this wonderful thing."
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