There is the solid, undeniable truth.

It is a woman's glory to help men on to the great places, and the strangest thing in all the world is that there is only one woman for any one man, and for me--you are the only one woman." Around them conversation had grown louder, the blue cloud of tobacco smoke more dense, the odour of cigarettes and coffee more pungent.

Down in the street a wandering musician was singing a little Neapolitan love song.

They heard snatches of it as the door downstairs was opened.
"You have known me for so short a time," she argued.

"How can you possibly be sure that I could give you what you want?
And in any case, how could I give anything except my eager wishes, my friendship--perhaps, if you will, my affection?
But would that bring you content ?" "No!" he answered unhesitatingly.