His free hand went out to meet hers. She forgot MacQueen and all the
sorrow he had brought her. Her eyes were dewy with love and his answered
eagerly. She knew now that she would love Jack Flatray for better or worse
until death should part them. But she knew, too, that the shadow of
MacQueen, her husband by law, was between them.
Together they walked back from the depot. In the shadow of the vines on
her father's porch they stopped. Jack caught her hands in his and looked
down into her tired, haggard face all lit with love. Tears were in the
eyes of both.
"You're entitled to the truth, Jack," she told him. "I love you. I think I
always have. And I know I always shall. But I'm another man's wife. It
will have to be good-bye between us, Jack," she told him wistfully.
He took her in his arms and kissed her. "You're my sweetheart. I'll not
give you up. Don't think it."
He spoke with such strength, such assurance, that she knew he would not
yield without a struggle.
"I'll never be anything to him--never. But he stands between us. Don't you
see he does?"
"No. Your marriage to him is empty words. We'll have it annulled. It will
not stand in any court. I've won you and I'm going to keep you. There's no
two ways about that."
She broke down and began to sob quietly in a heartbroken fashion, while he
tried to comfort her. It was not so easy as he thought. So long as
MacQueen lived Flatray would walk in danger if she did as he wanted her to
do.
Neither of them knew that Bucky O'Connor's bullet had already annulled the
marriage, that happiness was already on the wing to them.
This hour was to be for their grief, the next for their joy.