There is something which you will have to be told,--something with which I never reckoned, something which is beginning to weigh upon me night and day.
Trust me, Rosamund, and wait!" She sank back into her chair with a piquant and yet pathetic little grimace.
"You tell me always to wait," she complained.

"I will be patient, but you shall tell me this.

You are so kind to me.

You make or mar my life.
You must care a little?
Please ?" He was standing up now.

He kissed her hands fondly.