her body continued to heave with sobs.

He bent his head lower. His voice shook. "It's so, so simple," he
whispered. "All you've got to do is to marry me."

And as she made an odd little movement in his arms he held her tighter
and began to talk very fast.

"No, no," he said, "don't answer anything yet. Just listen. Just let me
tell you first. I want to tell you to start with how terribly I love
you. But that doesn't mean you've got to love me--you needn't if you
don't want to--if you can't--if you'd rather not I'm eighteen years
older than you, and I know what I'm like to look at--no, don't say
anything yet--just listen quiet first--but if you married me you'd be an
American right away, don't you see? Just as Anna-Felicitas is going to
be English. And I always intended going back to England as soon as may
be, and if you married me what is to prevent your coming too? Coming to
England? With Anna-Felicitas and her husband. Anna-Rose--little
Blessed--think of it--all of us together. There won't be any aliens in
that quartette, I guess, and the day you marry me you'll be done with
being German for good and all. And don't you get supposing it matters
about your not loving me, because, you see, I love you so much, I adore
you so terribly, that anyhow there'll be more than enough love to go
round, and you needn't ever worry about contributing any if you don't
feel like it--"

Mr. Twist broke off abruptly. "What say?" he said, for Anna-Rose was
making definite efforts to speak. She was also making definite and
unmistakable movements, and this time there could be no doubt about it;
she was coming closer.

"What say?" said Mr. Twist breathlessly, bending his head.

"But I do," whispered Anna-Rose.

"Do what?" said Mr. Twist, again breathlessly.

She turned her face up to his. On it was the same look he had lately
seen on Anna-Felicitas's, shining through in spite of the disfiguration
of her tears.

"But--_of course_ I do," whispered Anna-Rose, an extraordinary smile,
an awe-struck sort of smile, coming into her face at the greatness of
her happiness, at the wonder of it.

"What? Do what?" said Mr. Twist, still more breathlessly.

"I--always did," whispered Anna-Rose.

"_What_ did you always did?" gasped Mr. Twist, hardly able to believe
it, and yet--and yet--there on her little face, on her little
transfigured face, shone the same look.

"Oh--_love_ you," sighed Anna-Rose, nestling as close as she could get.