She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. She had one idea, she found, very clear in her mind—that she would get a Research Scholarship, and so contrive another year in the laboratory. Let him be sure. "You do love me?" "God knows how much!" Suddenly he laid his head on her shoulder. "You've got him?" demanded Ireton.
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