He put his arm about me and drew me to him. Then he took my chin in his hand and looked intently into my face.
"Ellen, I can't believe you're indifferent to me."
"Nobody could be indifferent to you, Jago. I'm sure of that."
"You mean they must either hate or love me. Which do you, Ellen?"
"Of course I don't hate you."
"Then you must love me."
"It was you who said that people must either love or hate. There can be a halfway feeling."
"I have no patience with halfway feelings."
"That is not to say they don't exist."
"I love you, Ellen. I want you to marry me, and I don't want any delay. I want to go straight back to the church and put up the banns. I think it has to be three weeks before a wedding. Come, we'll go right away."
He had sprung to his feet but I remained seated.
"You go too fast, Jago," I said. "Remember, it is only a short while ago that I was engaged to be married. I can't make a decision just like that. Besides, I'm not at all sure that marriage would be a good thing."
He stared at me in amazement. "Not a good thing! Between us! My dear Ellen, you can't mean that!"
"I do mean it. Everything has happened too soon for me. This time last year I had not thought of marrying anyone. Then I became engaged and my fiance was shot. And now you are suggesting that I marry you in three weeks' time."
"What has this calculation of a year and weeks to do with it? I love you. You love me. Why should we wait?"
"Because I'm unsure."
"You unsure! You know where you're going, Ellen. You're not some silly simpering female to be pushed in any direction the wind blows her."
"That's exactly so. I wasn't in love with Philip."
"Of course you weren't. You know that now because you realize what it means to love."
"Please listen to me, Jago. I will not be hurried into anything. I'm fascinated by the Island. I'm becoming more and more interested, but I have not thought of marriage and I don't want to hurry into anything. You must understand that."
He knelt on the traveling rug.
"You disappoint me, Ellen," he said.
"I'm sorry, but I must tell you what I feel."
"What do you feel for me?"
"I enjoy being in your company. I like to learn about the Island. In fact I find things here intriguing."
"Including me?"
"Yes, Jago, including you."
"But you don't love me enough to marry me?"
"I don't know you enough."
"You don't know me! After all this time!"
"It isn't very long."
"But I thought you knew all you wanted to know about me."
"I don't think one ever knows all one wants to about another person."
"Now you're being profound. I know enough for both of us. I know I love you. I know that nobody ever meant to me what you do, and I know that I wasn't really living until you came. Isn't that enough, and don't you see that our marriage would be the best thing that could happen to either of us?"
"Why?" I asked.
He looked at me incredulously. "You and I together for the rest of our lives on the Island. Together we'd make it into a paradise."
"Surely if two people are in love where they live is not important."
"Of course it isn't. But there happens to be the Island."
"Jago," I said, rising, "thank you for asking me but. . ."
"What do you mean? Thank you for asking me but! Why thank me for what you must know has been uppermost in my mind for weeks?"
He was standing beside me and he caught me and held me fast. Our faces were close and I could see the heavy lids had come down over his eyes as though he did not want me to see all that was there.
He kissed my lips then and I felt an immediate response to the passion which I sensed in him. It had never been like that with Philip.
I was aware of the screech of a gull overhead—jeering in a way.
I broke free. "No, Jago," I said, "I must think about everything. There's so much to consider. This has brought back what happened in London and I can't forget it."
"That was a fortunate release, my darling. That's how you are going to see it."
"It was not very fortunate for Philip."
"He's dead. Let the past bury itself. You are not going to mourn over that forever?"
"No, I suppose not. When I am sure, I shall be happy. All that will recede, but I must be sure first. Let me explain to you a little, Jago. When Philip asked me to marry him, a bleak future lay before me. I could have been very frightened if I had let myself contemplate it too clearly, but I always pretended to myself that it wouldn't happen. When Philip proposed it was like a miracle . . . too wonderful to be true. It was only afterwards . . . yes, before he died, that I began to have doubts and my childish belief in the future was considerably dimmed. Now I am here. I love the Island—yes, I do and I have so much enjoyed being with you and if we were to leave each other and never meet again, I should be unhappy. But I'm not sure if that's enough. Give me time to think, Jago. Whether you will give it or not I must have it. Let us go on for a little longer as we have been. Do this for me, Jago. When I'm with you I think I love you, but I have to be sure."
We were standing very close and he held my hands tightly.
"Dearest Ellen," he said. "I will do anything you want."
"Thank you, Jago. Take me back to the Island now. I want to think."
He picked up the rug and slung it over one arm, the other he slipped through mine.
As we went down to the
