It was, he realized bitterly, just because he did love her so well, that he could not say more.

He had said too much already; but her nearness had gone to his head, and he had forgotten that he was not free to say what he felt.
Perhaps Josephine mistook his sudden silence for trepidation, or humility.

At any rate she reined impulsively close, and reached out and caught the hand hanging idly at his side.
"Ford, I'm no coquette," she said straightforwardly, with a blush for maiden-modesty's sake.

"I believe you; absolutely and utterly I believe you.

If you had been different at first--if you had made any overtures whatever toward--toward lovemaking, I should have despised you.