She lifted her head and regarded him with an air of sorrow and scorn.
"After all, I think you must be a wicked man!" she said--"You have no heart! You are not worthy to be loved!" "Quite true, Manella! You've hit the bull's eye in the very middle three times! I am a wicked man,--I have no heart,--I'm not worthy to be loved.

No I'm not.

I should find it a bore!" "Bore ?" she echoed--"What is that ?" "What is that?
It is itself, Manella! 'Bore' is just 'bore.' It means tiredness--worn-out-ness--a state in which you wish yourself in a hot bath or a cold one, so that nobody can come near you.

To be 'loved' would finish me off in a month!" Her big eyes opened more widely than their wont in piteous perplexity.
"But how ?" she asked.
"How?
Why, just as you have put it,--to be prayed for night and morning,--to be worked for and waited on till fingers turned to bones,--to be guarded from sickness and harm,--heavens!--think of it! No more adventures in life,--no more freedom!--just love, love, love, which would not be love at all but the chains of a miserable wretch in prison!" She flushed an angry crimson.
"Who is it that would chain you ?" she demanded, "Not I! You could do as you liked with me--you know it!--and when you go away from this place, you could leave me and forget me,--I should never trouble you or remind you that I lived!! I should have had my happiness,--enough for my day!" The pathos in her voice moved him though he was not easily moved.

On a sudden impulse he put an arm about her, drew her to him and kissed her.
She trembled at his caress, while he smiled at her emotion.
"A kiss is nothing, Manella!" he said--"We kiss children as I kiss you! You are a child,--a child-woman.