"I am not," she answered decisively. "If I ever was--in the slightest--I
certainly am not now."
Poor Noble was transfigured. He struggled; making half-formed gestures,
speaking half-made words. A rapture glowed upon him.
"Julia--Julia----" He choked. "Julia, promise me something. Will you
promise me something? Julia, promise to promise me something."
"I will," she said quickly. "What do you want me to do?"
Then he saw that it was his time to speak; that this was the moment for
him to dare everything and ask for the utmost he could hope from her.
"Give me your word!" he said, still radiantly struggling. "Give me your
word--your word--your word and your sacred promise, Julia--that you'll
never be engaged to anybody at all!"