Why, you never were sentimental--and a girl isn't unless a man begins it! You never kissed me--except last summer when you were going away--and both of our hearts were pretty full--" "Wait," he said, suddenly exasperated, "are you trying to make me understand that you haven't the slightest real emotion concerning me--concerning me as a _man_--like other men ?" She looked at him, still confused and distressed, still determined he should not misunderstand her: "I don't know what you mean; truly I don't.

I'm only trying to make you believe that I am not guilty of thinking--wishing--of pretending that in our frank companionship there lay concealed anything of--of deeper significance--" "Suppose--it were true ?" he said.
"But it is _not_ true!" she retorted angrily--and looked up, caught his gaze, and her breath failed her.
"Suppose it were true--for example," he repeated.

"Suppose you did find that you or I were capable of--deeper--" "Louis! Louis! Do you realise what you are saying to me?
Do you understand what you are doing to the old order of things between us--to the old confidences, the old content, the happiness, the--the innocence of our life together?
_Do_ you?
Do you even _care_ ?" "Care?
Yes--I care." "Because," she said, excitedly, "if it is to be--_that_ way with you--I--I can not help you--be of use to you here in the studio as I have been....

_Am_ I taking you too seriously?
You do not mean that you _really_ could ever love me, or I you, do you?
You mean that--that you just want me back again--as I was--as we were--perfectly content to be together.

That is what you mean, isn't it, Kelly, dear ?" she asked, piteously.
He looked into her flushed and distressed face: "Yes," he said, "that is exactly what I mean, Valerie--you dear, generous, clear-seeing girl! I just wanted you back again; I miss you; I am perfectly wretched without you, and that is all the trouble.