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"But—but I want to! I wrote it because I was afraid!"
"Afraid? Afraid of what? Of me?"
"No, that is, not exactly. I was afraid you would make me love you, and—and I couldn't have—then." She paused, thoughtfully. "But I did!" she cried, exultingly.
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"I don't understand!"
"Well, if you had—had said what you have said now, I might have—have"
"I wish to heaven I had!" he groaned.
"But I couldn't have then, don't you see?" she went on, earnestly. "I couldn't have left father. There was no one else to look after him; he needed me every minute of his life. And I was afraid—afraid!"
"But you might have told me, Pru-
