What he saw in its soft glow and the shine of her
eyes made him almost take her in his arms again, candles and all.
And then she turned with them and went to the table. He continued
to light candles until the sputtering glow of half a dozen of them
filled the room. It was a wretched wastefulness, but it was also a
moment in which he felt himself fighting to get hold of himself
properly. And he felt also the desire to be prodigal about
something. When he had lighted his sixth candle, and then faced
Celie, she was standing near the table looking at him so quietly
and so calmly and with such a wonderful faith in her eyes that he
thanked God devoutly he had kissed her only once--just that once!
It was a thrilling thought to know that SHE knew he loved her.
There was no doubt of it now. And the thought of what he might
have done in that darkness and in the moment of her helplessness
sickened him. He could look her straight in the eyes now--
unashamed and glad. And she was unashamed, even if a little
flushed at what had happened.
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