It was true; she had not given unasked, for although Maryon Rooke had never actually asked her to marry him, his whole attitude had been that of the demanding lover.
"You're rather an uncanny person," she said at last, slowly.

"You understand--too much." "_Tout comprendre--c'est tout pardonner_," quoted Mallory gently.
Nan fenced.
"And do I need pardon ?" she asked.
"Yes," he answered simply, "You're not the woman God meant you to be.
You're too critical, too cold--without passion." "And I a musician ?"--incredulously.
"Oh, it's in your music right enough.

The artist in you has it.

But the woman--so far, no.

You're too introspective to surrender blindly.
Artiste, analyst, critic first--only _woman_ when those other three are satisfied." Nan nodded.
"Yes," she said slowly.