THE AMATEUR LOVER
Drew's hand reached up and smothered the words on her lips. You can t borrow my love," he said sternly. "It's yours, always, every bit of it. But I won't marry you unless you love me. I tell you it is n't fair to you."
Impulsively she took his hand and led him back to the big chair and pushed him gently into it, and perched herself like a little child on a pile of bulky law books at his feet. The eyes that looked up to his were very hopeful.
"Don't you think, Drew," she argued, "that just being willing to marry you is love enough?"
He scanned her face anxiously for some inner, hidden meaning to her words, some precious, latent confession; but her eyes were only blue, and just a little bit shy.
She stooped forward suddenly, and took Drew's hand and brushed it across her cheek to the edge of her lips. "I feel so safe with you, Drew," she whispered, "so safe, and comforted always. Oh, I'm sure I can teach you how to make me love you and you re the only man in the world that I'm willing to teach." Her chin stiffened suddenly with renewed stubbornness. "You are the Harbor that was meant for me, and Aleck Reese is nothing but a Storm. If you know it, and I know it, what's the use of dallying?"
Drew's solemn eyes brightened. "Do you truly'
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