Page:Guy Boothby - The Beautiful White Devil.djvu/123

 same question, will you tell me if you would give me the same answer, then?"

"It is unfair of you to put it in that way," she said, toying with a leaf. "But since you do ask, I will tell you truthfully. If I were in the position you describe, and you asked me to share your life with you, I would give you this answer, that I would be your wife or the wife of no other man."

"You love me then, Alie?"

My heart seemed to stop beating while I waited for her answer. When it did pass her lips, it was so soft that I could hardly hear it.

"Yes, I do love you."

Before she could prevent me I bad taken her in my arms, and rained kisses upon her beautiful face. For a moment she did not resist. Then she withdrew herself, panting, from my arms.

"Let me go," she gasped; "you must not do this. No, no, no! What am I telling you. Oh, why cannot you see that what you wish is impossible?"

"As I live," I cried in return, "it is not impossible, and it never shall be! Since you own yourself that you love me, I will not live without you. I love you as I verily believe man never loved woman before. If I were a poet instead of a prosaic doctor, I should tell you, Alie, that to me your smile is like God's sunshine; I would tell you that the wind only blows to carry to the world the story of my love for you; I would tell you all this and more—yes, a thousand times more. But I am no poet, I am only a man who loves you for your own beautiful self, for your sweetness, your loneliness, your tenderness to those about you. What does fame mean