I again ask you, Laura,
will you throw in your lot with mine, and help me in the life's work
which lies before me?"
Laura looked up at him, at his stringy figure, his pale face, his keen,
yet gentle eyes. Somehow as she looked there seemed to form itself
beside him some shadow of Hector Spurling, the manly features, the
clear, firm mouth, the frank manner. Now, in the very moment of her
triumph, it sprang clearly up in her mind how at the hour of their ruin
he had stood firmly by them, and had loved the penniless girl as
tenderly as the heiress to fortune. That last embrace at the door,
too, came back to her, and she felt his lips warm upon her own.
"I am very much honoured, Mr. Haw," she stammered, "but this is so
sudden. I have not had time to think. I do not know what to say."
"Do not let me hurry you," he cried earnestly. "I beg that you will
think well over it. I shall come again for my answer. When shall I
come? Tonight?"
"Yes, come tonight."
"Then, adieu. Believe me that I think more highly of you for your
hesitation. I shall live in hope." He raised her hand to his lips, and
left her to her own thoughts.
But what those thoughts were did not long remain in doubt. Dimmer and
dimmer grew the vision of the distant sailor face, clearer and clearer
the image of the vast palace, of the queenly power, of the diamonds, the
gold, the ambitious future.
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