Only--Lord bless us all!--it isn't as if I hadn't long ago seen that there's nothing at all FOR me." "Ah wait, wait!" Mrs.Brook put in.

"She has a theory"-- Vanderbank, from his chair, lighted it up for Mitchy, who hovered before them--"that your chance WILL come, later on, after I've given my measure." "Oh but that's exactly," Mitchy was quick to respond, "what you'll never do! You won't give your measure the least little bit.

You'll walk in magnificent mystery 'later on' not a bit less than you do today; you'll continue to have the benefit of everything that our imagination, perpetually engaged, often baffled and never fatigued, will continue to bedeck you with.

Nanda, in the same way, to the end of all her time, will simply remain exquisite, or genuine, or generous--whatever we choose to call it.

It may make a difference to us, who are comparatively vulgar, but what difference will it make to HER whether you do or you don't decide for her?
You can't belong to her more, for herself, than you do already--and that's precisely so much that there's no room for any one else.