I did not see how you could possibly love me.

A terror came over me that in the Den you must have mistaken me for someone else.

It was a darkish night, you know." "You are wanting me to say you are handsome." "No, no; I am wanting you to say I am very, very handsome.

Tell me you love me, Grizel, because I am beautiful." "Perhaps," she replied, "I love you because your book is beautiful." "Then good-bye for ever," he said sternly.
"Would not that please you ?" "It would break my heart." "But I thought all authors--" "It is the commonest mistake in the world.

We are simple creatures, Grizel, and yearn to be loved for our face alone." "But I do love the book," she said, when they became more serious, "because it is part of you." "Rather that," he told her, "than that you should love me because I am part of it.