"Longorio declares he won't have me except as his wife, and I
think he means it. He is amazingly egotistical. He has tremendous
ambitions. He thinks this war is his great opportunity, and he
means to be President--he's sure of it. He loves me, but he loves
himself better, I'm sure. Now, don't you see? He'll have to choose
one or the other."
Father O'Malley did not appear to appreciate the full force of
this reasoning. "My dear," he said, gravely, "he can make you a
widow again. In such times as these men are savages."
"Oh, but that's not all." Alaire turned to her newly made husband.
"They let you in, and they'll let you out again--if you go
quickly, before it's known what we've done."
Dave stared at her in bewilderment. "I? I go, and--leave you?" He
seemed doubtful of her sanity.
"Yes." When he laughed shortly, Alaire cried: "Dave, you must!
Don't you see what I'm driving at? If he can't marry me, if he
finds you're gone and he can't lay hands on you, what can he do
but let me go? Dave dear, for my sake, for the sake of us both--"
"You're excited," he told her, and drew her to himself gently.
"Please! PLEASE!" she implored.
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