He looked full at me with a deep searching gaze that seemed hardly warranted by the lightness of the argument.

I hesitated, and he impatiently leaned forward, uncrossing his legs and clasping his hands over one knee to bring himself nearer to me.
"Pleasure or happiness ?" he repeated, "which is it to be ?" A sudden light flashed over my obscured intellect.
"Both," I answered.

"Could you see the ideal woman as I would fain paint her to you, you would understand me better.

The pleasure you enjoy in the society of a noble and beautiful woman should be but the refreshment by the wayside as you journey through life together.

The day will come when she will be beautiful no longer, only noble and good, and true to you as to herself; and then, if pleasure has been to you what it should be, you will find that in the happiness attained it is no longer counted, or needed, or thought of.