Then there came the touch of his hand upon her head, and
its wild throbbing grew calmer.
"No," he said, and in his voice was a new deep note unknown to her. "I am
not pretending, Nonette."
The light touch drew her as it were magnetically. With a swift, impulsive
movement she raised herself, gave herself to him, hiding her face still
more deeply against his breast.
"But you--you--you couldn't really love me!" she whispered like an
incredulous child. "You sure you do?"
His arms went round her, holding her fast. He made no other answer.
Saltash, the glib of tongue and ready of gibe, was for once speechless in
the presence of that which has no words.
She nestled closer to him as a little furry animal that has found its
home. Her incredulity was gone, but she kept her face hidden. "But why
didn't you tell me before?" she said.
He bent his black head till his lips reached and rested against her hair.
"Nonette," he said, "you told me that I had made you believe in God."
"Yes?" she whispered back rather breathlessly. "Yes?"
"That's why," he said. "You got me clean through my armour there. Egad,
it made me a believer too. If I'd failed you after that--well, He'd have
been justified in damning me, body and soul!"
"But you couldn't!" she protested.
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