"To hear me talk," she told them, "you'd think the whole world depended on
me, and on my school and my ideas. Me, me, me! And it has been me all
winter long! What a time I've given both of you!"
She grew repentant and grateful, first to her father and then to Allan, and
then more and more to Allan, with her happy eyes on his. And with a keen
worried look at them both, Roger rose and left the room.
* * * * *
Baird was leaning forward. He had both her hands in his own.
"Well?" he asked. "Will you marry me now?"
Her eyes were looking straight into his. They kept moving slightly,
searching his. Her wide, sensitive lips were tightly compressed, but did
not quite hide their quivering. When she spoke her voice was low and a
little queer and breathless:
"Do you want any children, Allan?"
"Yes."
"So do I. And with children, what of my work?"
"I don't want to stop your work. If you marry me we'll go right on. You see
I know you, Deborah, I know you've always grown like that--by risking what
you've got to-day for something more to-morrow."
"I've never taken a risk like this!"
"I tell you this time it's no risk! Because you're a grown woman--formed!
I'm not making a saint of you. You're no angel down among the poor because
you feel it's your duty in life--it's your happiness, your passion! You
couldn't neglect them if you tried!"
"But the time," she asked him quickly.
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