But--lately--I do not know.
Yet, I know this: selfish or otherwise, I can not endure the thought of you in peril." She looked at me very gravely; then dropped her head once more.
"I don't know," I said desperately, "I wish to be honest--tell you no lie--tell none to myself.

I--your beauty--has touched me--or whatever it is about you that attracts.

And, whatever gown you go in, I scarcely see it--somehow--finding you so--so strangely--lovely--in speech also--and in--every way....

And now that I have not lied to you--or to myself--in spite of what I have said, let me be useful to you.

For I can be; and perhaps these other sentiments will pass away----" She looked up so suddenly that I ceased speaking, fearful of a rebuff; but saw only the grave, grey eyes looking straight into mine, and a sudden, deeper colour waning from her cheeks.
"Whatever I am," said I, "I can be what I will.