And she, watching for him, saw his coming, and her heart leaped with the joy of it. Helen Everard saw, too, and guessed what it meant.
“Go into the morning-room, Joan. I will send him to you there.”
And so it was in the morning-room he found her. Flushed and bright-eyed, trembling with happiness and the joy of seeing him, gone for ever the pride and the scorn, she was only a girl who loved him dearly, who needed him much. She had fought the giant pride, and had beaten it for ever for his sake, and now he was here smiling at her, his arms stretched out to her.
“You wanted me at last, Joan,” he said. “You called me, darling, and I have come.”
“I want you. I always want you. Never, never leave me again, Hugh—never leave me again. I love you so, and need you so.”
And then his arms were about her and hers about his neck, and she who had been so cold, so proud, so scornful, was remembering Johnny Everard’s words, “Life without love would be impossible.”
And now life was very, very possible to her.